


Attack of the Fanon: Clone Wars

by jojotier



Category: CLAMP in Wonderland, ジョジョの奇妙な冒険 | JoJo no Kimyou na Bouken | JoJo's Bizarre Adventure
Genre: Action/Adventure, Amnesia, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Study, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Denial of Feelings, Fanon, Fanon Clone AU, Feelings, Height Differences, Humor, Implied Sexual Content, Kakyoin Lives AU, M/M, Mild Gore, OOC clones, Obsessive Behavior, Yandere, but like the super shitty OOC fanon, have fun lmao, the au no one wanted, who wants to see Kakyoin punch his doormat fanon??
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-20
Updated: 2018-08-12
Packaged: 2018-11-16 17:34:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 28,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11257629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jojotier/pseuds/jojotier
Summary: Kakyoin and Jotaro are called to the little seaside town of Hasetsu, where people are disappearing and/or gaining clones of themselves. Here, both have to deal with clones that seem to make a mockery of them by mere virtue of their existence....(Why am I trying to make this a serious summary? All this is is a fanon clone au I made just so that canon Jotaro and Noriaki would have to deal with their shitty mischaracterizations and how pushy/gross or weepy/weak they are respectively. We all know you just came for Kakyoin punching Clampyoin in the face)





	1. Morning: Who Wants Scrambled Eggs? (Note: eggs do not appear in this chapter)

**Author's Note:**

> yeah uuuuuuuuuuuhh could i get a side of character study with my crack pls and thank

There was something wrong here. Noraki didn’t even need to see the blood dripping from under the door of a nearby closet to feel it, but the slow, wet drops spattering the tile below with red certainly helped affirm his suspicions.

It was supposed to be a fairly simple mission. Stand user operating in only one small town, a seaside resort known as Hasetsu. Mysterious disappearances of tourists and residents seemingly getting clones out of nowhere. Probably not the strangest case Noriaki had ever had the misfortune of dealing with, considering their track record in Egypt and the cases that he’d willingly subjected himself to on request of the Speedwagon Foundation over the previous year since he’d fully recovered from losing his internal organs and part of his spine, but still, odd enough that it warranted investigation. 

Their informant had been staying at a little hot spring resort owned by a kind little woman with a three year old son when she’d apparently found information vital to the retrieval of the stand user, some things that meant that not only was Noriaki there, but so was Jotaro. Jotaro had already gone off, relating to the tip she’d given that it seemed the biggest targets were over on the beach, leaving Noriaki and Alex alone in a little backroom of the resort.

Drip. Another splatter of red. “Mr. Kakyoin?” Alex asked, eyes widening in a seeming mockery of his expectations. The Foundation told them both a bit about Alex- supposedly, he was supposed to have been a quick witted, albeit soft spoken man who had a tendency not to take any sort of guff from anyone, much less any stand users he was in contact with. He was supposed to be calm, deadpan, and stoic. The Alex in front of him acted strangely, soft spoken for sure, but there was none of the sarcasm or quick wit that Noriaki had been expecting. Instead, it was almost a blank canvas, one that was hopelessly attracted to Jotaro apparently and who fidgeted and let himself be talked over as if he truly didn’t have anything to say. He looked just the same as the pictures, and yet…

“Hm? My apologies- it’s been a little while since I traveled.” Noriaki lied through his teeth, because surely if this was truly the informant, he would pick up on it. “Now, what exactly do you have for us here, other than the most likely place to find the user?”  _ Just who was in the closet?  _ Noriaki would step with caution- it was obvious that this was off, so it was just as likely that the being in front of him pretending to be their informant might have an ability or two that would make tying him down to investigate difficult. A game of chess, then. 

“Uh! R-right.” Stuttering. That seemed pretty damn out of character already. The blond swept an errant piece of hair behind his ear and looked straight at Noriaki in a way that was vaguely unnerving in how blank it was, as if trying to convey the general meaning of bashfulness and coming up too flat and one dimensional to convey it all the way. “I know things must have been hard… but at least you had Jojo to save you…” 

_ Excuse you,  _ Noriaki thought. “Actually, the Speedwagon Foundation took care of saving the lot of us at that point. Jotaro was valuable in saving the rest of the world, though, even if it turned out he couldn’t save me.” was what Noriaki said with an easy smile. That much was true- if the Foundation workers hadn’t been combing the city and Kakyoin had been left there against that water tower, no matter how fast Jotaro defeated Dio, there would have been no way for him to go back and save Noriaki.

It made Noriaki wonder, sometimes, if he should have even been alive in the first place.

But oh well, best not to dwell on that. The Alex-look-a-like was speaking, face dusted with pink. “Well, all thoughts about… er, him, aside. There are a couple of things you should know. For one thing, the stand user is definitely close by here, near this resort… whenever someone disappears, it’s from here, and apparently the hostess has a double now…” Already something that Noriaki knew, but he was slowly inching towards the door, waiting for the fake informant to find his voice. There was a small pool of red, and eventually, it was going to start spreading out across the nice tile floor of this poor woman’s home. He just needed to wait for the last straw… “Um. I sent Jojo to the beach because he can probably do a better job than we can, but there’s something you should know. The stand works by taking something from you.”   
  
“Such as  _ your life.” _ Noriaki said, and in that moment was able to not only tangle the fake up in the tendrils of Hierophant that had been spreading throughout the room but was able to throw open the door wide to the crime scene inside. The fake struggled, and before it could move its arms Noriaki had those tied too. He looked over the gory scene, and despite the pang of regret that shot through his chest, Noriaki knew that nothing could have been done for the poor informant. The man was eviscerated on the ground, looking more like a pile of raw meat than a person. The stench of blood hung thick, curling against Noriaki like a miasma, and pointing to the various instruments of execution on the ground around him. Holding back his gag reflex, he turned.

In that moment, there was a sudden flash of light, and instinctively Noriaki clutched the fake that much tighter with Hierophant’s tendrils, even as he was clearing the spots away from his vision. Lacerations appeared on the lookalike’s skin as it cried out in pain, and from his hands dropped a camera that Noriaki could have sworn he hadn’t been holding before. The device shattered instantly upon impact, and the photo that it had taken was presumably lost for good. Why take a picture of Noriaki? 

“... Oh. That’s rather quaint.” The lookalike swallowed thickly, tears welling up in its eyes. _“_ You think I’d let you go so easily… Didn’t your original tell you anything about us or our stands? Hierophant Green likes nothing more than to take things apart. Especially since you aren’t even a real person to begin with…” Really, it’s more intimidation and bluff at this point. While it was true that Hierophant- and himself, honestly- would have loved to give this evildoer its just desserts, Noriaki still needed information. That didn’t mean that he would make it easy for this entity. Especially not with the evidence of its crimes behind him, gathering flies and staining everything with red. Noriaki had no patience for murderers or doppelgangers. 

Before he could open his mouth and begin his interrogation, his phone rang. Pulling it out of his pocket and flipping it open revealed that it was Jotaro’s number, so it looked like he was probably going to have to hold off. At least for the moment. At the very least, he could tell Jotaro just what the hell was going on and warn him of the lookalike’s exceedingly vague hint at what the enemy stand’s powers could do. “Jotaro, we have a bit of a situation on our hands.”

“No kidding.” He rumbled through the phone, sounding slightly irritated. “That’s fucking fantastic, because I have a situation over here too. Looks like that bitch that runs the hot springs isn’t the only one with a clone now.” 

“I thought we agreed not to call her bitch.” Noriaki let out a breath, looking to the clone of their informant. Then his eyebrows furrowed. “Wait. Who else at that beach has a clone? If it’s a substantial amount of people…” 

“No. No one’s out today- it’s too cloudy to do any tourist crap on the beach.” Jotaro said, listening to Noriaki’s crackling, confused voice on the other end of the line.

“So… does that mean that you--”   
  
“Unfortunately.”

There was a beat of silence. Then Noriaki sighed. “See if you can get your double over here, and don’t let your guard down. Our informant, Mr. Alex, has a double too- and now the original Alex is dead.” 

That was more than enough to get Jotaro’s attention, and he looked away from the waves lapping at the shore. Beside him, his clone leaned over the railing of the boardwalk, watching the sea with a cigarette between his lips. There didn’t seem to be anything wrong with him at first glance- other than the impossible height, which was honestly bullshit, because Jotaro wasn’t used to being shorter than someone, much less another version of himself that was for some reason bizarrely ripped with more muscle than what should have been healthy.

“Be careful with him, Jotaro. I trust you’ll be able to make it back in one piece.”

“Good grief… Yeah, I will. Don’t tear this other Alex apart yet either, you sadistic freak. We need him to figure some shit out here.” 

Jotaro could practically hear the cruel smile in Kakyoin’s voice. “No promises.” Then the line went dead.

He let out a long suffering breath and figured he’d just have to put faith in Kakyoin’s self control, then slipped the phone back into his pocket. Beside him, his double straightened up, and Jotaro was still pissed to find that his copy was at least a head taller than him. It was uncomfortable on its own, but at the very least, he could take solace in the fact that Kakyoin’s face was going to be hysterical once he caught sight of the hulking asshole. Said asshole puffed the last of his cigarette and flicked it to the ground, not even bothering to put it out with his shoe. That shit was a fire hazard though, and if Jotaro had learned one thing from the Egypt trip, it was to at the very least prevent shit that was easily preventable in the first place. He stomped the cigarette butt out and followed along after.

“So what did Kakyoin have to say?” His double said, and Jotaro’s voice wasn’t really that deep was it? Hell, it was said that people sounded different when hearing themselves recorded, so it was possible that he really did sound like that. “Anything useful?”

For some reason, the dismissive tone when talking about an intelligent and damn competent fighter was pissing Jotaro right off. “I’d say pretty damn useful. He has an enemy there, and found out our informant’s dead, so there’s that much. He’ll have more information out the bastard by the time we make it to him.” For some reason, the other Jotaro found that thought goddamn hilarious, and the little smirk coming from him made Jotaro want to punch him all the more. 

“I doubt it.” The other Jotaro said, reaching up to adjust his hat. “He’s pretty damn useless- poor bastard’ll probably need us to untangle him from his own stand by the time we make it to him. If I were you, I’d get ready for a chase. Considering the fact that I am you. Stupid as this all is.” 

Jotaro had to stop and stare up at the other, shielding his eyes against the sun with the brim of his hat. He thought that Noriaki Kakyoin, the one who figured out genius ways to outsmart dangerous stands and even figured out The World, was  _ useless?  _ Jotaro hadn’t been friends for Kakyoin long, and they hadn’t been close friends for a particularly long time, but even he wasn’t dense enough to sit there and think that Kakyoin was somehow weaker than him just because his stand was different. And he sure as hell wasn’t going to sit there and doubt his abilities. He knew first hand that if Kakyoin wanted to, he could kill someone.

The other Jotaro paused too, then looked back at him, raising an eyebrow. “So, are you coming or not? Yare yare daze… If we don’t hurry, he’ll get himself killed or something. You and I both know that’s how it is for pretty much everyone, and you and me both know that it especially holds true for Kakyoin.” 

“What the fuck,” Jotaro said, eyes narrowing, “are you on about. I don’t know what the fuck kind of place you come from, but the Kakyoin dealing with the clone back at the resort’ll probably need help cleaning the blood off his hands, depending on what he does with the clone. If things like you can even bleed.” 

“Yare yare...“ The clone clicked his tongue, looking impassively back at Jotaro. A stray breeze blew his coat out behind him dramatically. “We bleed alright- but not as much as you will if you don’t stop with that shit.” 

Jotaro, in that moment, was suddenly keenly aware of the fact that this clone of his with the weird watered down reactions and stoic fucking face was taunting him. He was also keenly aware of the fact that for some godforsaken reason, this clone was  _ better at one liners  _ than he was. It wasn’t even in the middle of a battle and the bastard could apparently bust one out. So enraged in that moment by the combined factors of this fact and his double’s apparent disregard for his own damn allies, Jotaro nearly punched himself in the face. Then, from off in the distance…

“Ah! Jotaro-kun!” 

Jotaro turned to see what sounded so eerily similar to Kakyoin and caught sight of possibly the worst thing he had ever seen. At first glance, the approaching form looked immensely like Kakyoin- they had the same red hair and the same earrings and the same eyes- but as it drew closer, the person looked more and more fake.

For one thing, this Kakyoin was five foot nothing. He barely reached Jotaro’s shoulders, and when compared to the Jotaro clone, he just about reached his sternum. For another thing, any muscle that Kakyoin had was absolutely gone, with nothing but a trace of a waifish, overly effeminate frame. Sure, Kakyoin was somewhat effeminate, but it was never so exaggerated, or nearly so goddamn insufferable. Usually Kakyoin’s face was set in some thoughtful expression, calm, but not nearly as mindlessly calm or smiling as this thing. The fake Kakyoin attached himself to the Jotaro clone’s arm, smiling up at him with a dumb look on his face. 

“Jotaro-kun, I’ve been looking everywhere for you! You know, it’s mean to be leaving me off all by myself. I missed you.”

“I know, but we had something to deal with here.” 

“We?” 

The fake Kakyoin looked at Jotaro with a bewildered expression on his face, so weirdly and unnervingly blank that it made a shudder run down Jotaro’s spine. Then his eyes widened, and his hand went up to his cheek. “Oh. Well, would you look at that. There’s two of you now?” Then he smiled, and looking at it made Jotaro want to physically recoil. “I suppose that’s just more of you for me to love, hm?” 

Jotaro’s mouth opened for a moment. Then it closed. It opened again when he thought he had a good one liner, but then he realized how dumb ‘can you love anything when you look like the unholy love child of satan and a blow up doll because either way I feel gross looking at you’ would sound and closed it again. For once Jotaro was well and truly gobsmacked. 

Then the false Kakyoin laid a hand on his clone’s arm, and he noticed a fucking wedding ring.

Jotaro suddenly felt like he needed to smoke at least five different cartons of cigarettes to try and ease the disgust welling up in the pit of his being. Then, his clone looked to him with that stoic, cold expression and turned away, the fake Kakyoin following on his heels like a goddamn puppy. His clone said absentmindedly over his shoulder, “Well, come on- let's see how you’re Kakyoin is doing with that other clone.”

The walk to the resort was insufferable, and Jotaro learned three things- for one, apparently this version of himself and Kakyoin were fucking  _ married _ , of all things. For the second, he discovered that his other self was more of an asshole than previously established. Sure, they’d met on that beach when they both nearly punched each other in the face and then when his clone started to brood like some ultra edgy asshole, but he didn’t think that he could see any version of himself get so pushy, touching his shitty doormat Kakyoin when he was meekly told to knock it off and calling Kakyoin his bitch. 

Third, Jotaro realized how much he hated everything, but mostly just himself. He goddamn abhorred himself and honestly, it was a miracle that people could put up with him.

Thankfully, the owner knew enough of their situation to let the odd party in through a backdoor, and Jotaro took the lead to bring everyone into the back room that was… oddly silent. Jotaro slowed as he neared the door, where he knew the informant had taken Kakyoin, and summoned Star Platinum. He trusted Kakyoin, but at the same time, he didn’t want to barge in if he was doing something- or worse, if there was some kind of danger. Now was the time for precision and a steady hand-

-or just barging in like what his clone did, not even bothering to use his stand to kick in the door. God dammit, did Jotaro hate this bastard. 

He followed in after his double, who actually had to duck his head to fit through the door, and the scene seemed pretty typical. Kakyoin had looked up as soon as they barged in, eyes narrowed and a defensive barrier wrapping around him for one meter to administer an Emerald Splash should anyone get too close, with the hapless crying of some weepy clone filling the room. Not only did Kakyoin seem to have everything handled, but he even was sitting where some of Hierophant’s tendrils suspended him from the ground, a book in his hands on different ice skating techniques. After whatever the hell (who was gasping in horror in the hallway), this was a damn welcome sight.

“He didn’t try to kill me, at least.” Jotaro muttered as Kakyoin relaxed, though only enough to eye the hulking form of Jotaro’s double. The initial look on Kakyoin’s face was fucking hilarious, and Jotaro had to keep from smirking when he saw Kakyoin’s far too big mouth twist in a weird way that caused his eyes to squint and his nose to wrinkle far up in repugnance. Then, Jotaro ended up standing beside his double, and that weird face loosened into one of mild surprise, and then a shit eating grin that had  _ no fucking right to be on his face  _ as his shoulders shook a bit.

“What the hell’s so funny?”

“Did he shrink you or what? Holy shit, Jotaro, I didn’t even know clones could have that happen to them. You, Jotaro-clone- you look like a bull that got fed too much-- oh my Lord, this is  _ hysterical _ .”

The Kakyoin clone behind Jotaro piped up, trying to peek around the two massive forms of the burly men in front of him. “Ah! Excuse me, but I really must get through. I want to see…”

“If you think this is funny,” Jotaro said hotly, steaming from the fact that apparently  _ someone _ was finding humor in the situation. “wait until you see this.” He stepped to the side, letting the Kakyoin clone get through. Kakyoin’s shitty laughter was cut off nigh instantaneously as he caught sight of his clone, standing there meekly and staring at the entire scene with wide eyes. Kakyoin’s face was twisted once again in shock and disgust, and yeah, it was obvious that he found his clone just as awful as Jotaro found his to be. It would have been funny, if Jotaro hadn’t just spent ten solid minutes dealing with  _ both  _ of them at once.

“What an odd situation.” The fake Kakyoin said mildly before saying, “I suppose we should introduce ourselves, hm? It seems like the most polite thing to do in this situation. My name is Kakyoin Noriaki, and this is my husband, Kujo Jotaro.” He smiled serenely, and the real Kakyoin was unceremoniously deposited on the floor as Hierophant was recalled out of sheer shock. Thankfully before their prisoner could escape, Jotaro called Star Platinum to hold him down.

The real Kakyoin got a hold of himself and stood up, standing up to his full height while Jotaro migrated to his side so as to not stand near these clones anymore. Kakyoin said coolly, “No need to say it twice- but the distinction here is that I had the sense not to marry anyone and damage my reputation as a bachelor. Neither did Jotaro.” 

The fake Kakyoin’s eyes widened, and the look of shock on his face was so painfully flat that it was an assault on both of the originals’ eyes. “What? Never married? I suppose things really are different… We got married straight after Egypt, after the Speedwagon Foundation fixed me up. I couldn’t live without Jotaro-kun…”

“You got married while you were  _ still in high school? _ ” Kakyoin said, absolutely scandalized by the idea. “You weren’t even friends for that long at that point!” Lord knows how hard Kakyoin had punched Jotaro in the gut for taking stupid risks in Egypt after he fully recovered the strength to.

“But we love each other.” The fake Kakyoin said, still so damn calm and serene. “Isn’t that enough?”

Jotaro’s clone nodded, and then as if the conversation ended there, the clones went to examine the scene. Or rather, the Jotaro clone did- the fake Kakyoin took one look at the blood under the door and had his eyes covered by his husband, then sent out of the room. The tallest one there said commandingly, “I’ll take over from here and figure out what happened.” Kakyoin gaped for a second, at Jotaro’s clone and then at the clone of himself who was so easily shooed out of the room.

“Figure out what?” Kakyoin said, barking out an uncomfortable bark of laughter. “I already got the information! The clone killed the original version of Alex and took my picture using a stand, likely the one causing jokers like  _ him,”  _ He jerked a thumb back towards the bastardized version of himself, “to be appearing around town! Why the hell are you trying to assert yourself as if you’re on this case?”

The clones looked at Kakyoin, perplexed. As if they didn’t expect him to speak up at all. It caused his fingers to twitch into a fist, and already Hierophant was back up, curling around him. Before they could say anything, Jotaro, the bastard, piped up and said, “I’m gonna go tell the shitty old man about this. Kakyoin, you deal with them.” before unceremoniously dumping the clone on Hierophant’s tentacles and hightailing it out of the room. Asshole, leaving Kakyoin to deal with this shit as if he himself wasn’t one word away from tearing the both of these clones to smithereens. And honestly, would that have been a bad thing? After all, Alex’s clone ended up killing him…

“We still need to figure out where the stand user is, and there may be clues. Clues you overlooked.” The Jotaro clone said, moving in front of him as if he was trying to intimidate Kakyoin. He knew for a damn fact that this Jotaro clone better not be trying to do shit like that. “So why don’t you go take the clone somewhere else with my wife?”

“Your,” Kakyoin had to blink, glaring up at the clone. “your wife? Your  _ wife?  _ As if he’s a woman?”

“Well one of us has to be the wife, and he’s the more effeminate. My wife is a man- you got a problem with that?” 

“Okay- I don’t know if you realize this,” Kakyoin could not believe that this was a conversation that he had to have right then, right in that moment. This was his life, apparently. “but the word you are looking for, for a spouse that is a man, is  _ husband _ . It doesn’t matter if you’re both men. You’re  _ both  _ husbands then. Funny how that works. Tell me how the hell I can trust you to look for clues when you can’t even use the right terminology for your  **husband** , and when you’re asserting yourself as if I’m going to bend to your bullshit.”

“I don’t really mind,” Kakyoin’s clone said, a gentle smile on his face as he touched Kakyoin’s shoulder, “Being the wife, I mean. It’s rewarding just being with him, after all. Jotaro-kun and I go just as far back as yourself and your Jotaro-kun go. It may seem strange, but it’s simply how he shows that he loves me. I’m sure you would be the same way with your Jotaro.”

“Don’t  touch me.” Kakyoin told his clone, smacking the hand off of his shoulder. His clone looked at him with mild shock. “And no, I wouldn’t! If he tried to pull something like this, trying to bowl over what I did? I would have punched him, just like I want to punch your Jotaro.” His voice was deadly calm, and his clone paled.

“There really is no need for violence here… We’re all just working towards a common goal. Does it really matter who gets to find any clues or who gets to call the shots? You’ve already done your part, so we can sit back and let Jotaro-kun handle everything from here until your Jotaro comes back, and then we can all sit down and have a chat over tea. Perhaps there are more similarities and differences that we can-” 

Fake Jotaro cut off his  _ husband,  _ “Noriaki, this isn’t anything you have to argue. Just go- I’ll take care of this.”

The false Kakyoin nodded hesitantly, saying, “If you’re sure, go ahead- I have full faith that you can do this. Please though, don’t be too rough on him…” 

“I wouldn’t dream of it. It’s still yo-”

“Shut up!” Noriaki snapped at the fake Jotaro, who took a step back in complete surprise at being ordered around. Then, Noriaki looked incredulously at his clone, so weakly submitting to everything and looking so damnably calm and serene while doing it. “As for you- how are you so submissive? How can you remotely be anything like that after everything you’ve been through, fighting through Egypt, having to get punched through the gut? Having to figure out The World while you’re dying?”

“I…” The fake Noriaki bit the inside of his cheek, then said gently. “I never figured out the world. I was knocked unconscious after Dio punched me… It was all Jotaro. Jotaro’s the one who saved us all, and the one who fought off all of those stands--”

“So you  _ stood by _ ,” Noriaki said slowly, trying to see if he had this right, “and you  _ let this shit just happen?” _

“I was too scared…”

That was the last straw. Noriaki lunged in that moment, with the full intent of punching his clone in the face, when he was suddenly held back by two ethereal purple arms. Which Jotaro sicked his stand on Noriaki to keep this weird, weepy clone safe? It didn’t matter, because Kakyoin was  _ pissed.  _ “Nori, please don’t.” Jotaro- his Jotaro, judging by the fact that the voice came from behind him- said with some measure of exhaustion. “The old man says we can’t hurt them.” 

“What?!”

The fake Jotaro, who had his shitty weak Kakyoin clone hidden under his arm, sneered. “As I was saying, I’ll take it from here. Maybe you should take better control of your Kakyoin.”

_ “If you say one more goddamn word I swear to God I will--” _

“Nori please it’s not worth it I promise--”

If someone would have told Noriaki when he was seventeen that he was going to have to be held back by a man with the reputation of being a delinquent and solving all his problems by punching them enough because fighting someone wasn’t worth it, he would have scoffed in their face. Funny how the tables turned, he mused as he was finally just dragged out of the room by Star Platinum. The door was left open, of course, so they could keep an eye on the clones, but all in all, Kakyoin was able to tell Jotaro what he knew. 

“Basically, all clones have a time limit before they turn murderous. It varies from clone to clone, but you’ll know when they start acting more like you would act... “ Which really, when Noriaki thought about it, was an almost chilling mechanism. Still, he would take vaguely creepy mirror over the spinless china doll that bore his face any day of the goddamn week. 

“And the stand is a camera, right? From what you’ve seen?” Jotaro asked to clarify, and Noriaki nodded. “Well, that explains how he appeared… anyone would have just needed to get a picture, and when that beach is crowded, it’d be easy to offer tourists one of those photos.”

“How did you end up getting your picture taken?”

“There was a girl with a camera… I didn’t really think much on it because it wouldn’t have been the first time some deranged fangirl or something took my picture.”

“Ah yes, the fan club… I suppose they’re looking a sight better than those clones right about now.” Jotaro begrudgingly nodded, tilting the brim of his hat down. Noriaki shared the wordless sentiment. This was going to be a long day.

“Good grief…” Jotaro mumbled.

“Good grief indeed.” Noriaki agreed.


	2. Afternoon: The Great Clone Caper (To be continued...)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yea could i get uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh some serious plot with my crack and character study
> 
> whoops i accidentally started turning this into a legitimate plot.... and if you thought that there were just the CLAMP clones, oho, dear reader, you are so, so, SO wrong!!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this because I know I liked writing this haha

“Ah! Not to be a bother, or anything…” The worst thing either of them could think of bothering them while they were having a silent moment of incredulous solidarity was the voice of Kakyoin’s doppleganger, but look where the both of them were. How Noriaki know Jotaro was just as repulsed in that moment as he was? Probably because as his doppleganger placed a hand on Jotaro’s shoulder, Jotaro tensed and slid out from under it like a spider was slowly crawling up his back. “But, there’s something you should see inside…”

“Don’t touch me.” Jotaro said gruffly, eyebrow giving the barest twitch of the irritation he was no doubt trying to fend off his face. 

Both he and Noriaki already saw the shit this weak clone subjected himself to, and they knew that they were probably on a one way ticket to a flooded resort if they pushed too far, or worse; the other Jotaro could try asserting himself again and the both of them would have to restrain  _ him  _ while restraining  _ themselves _ to not make a mess of everything since Mr. Joestar had decided that it was about time for some good old fashioned torture. 

The other Kakyoin stuttered out some apology, and Noriaki cut in uncaringly, ignoring the slightly hurt look he got. Considering that this was an unflattering glitched out funhouse mirror of himself, Noriaki figured that he could get away with a bit more callousness than Jotaro, just to make it up to him. “Well, what is it? Or do you not know and your Jotaro sent for us.”

“That’s what happened.” The other Kakyoin said, a hand resting delicately on his chin as he thought (even if his face showed nothing but blank… something, like a slate, or a stiff drawing), a little blush rising to his cheeks. “Really… Jotaro-kun is rather considerate, keeping me away from whatever bloody, awful thing is contained in that room, and I really am grateful to-”

“That’s nice, but frankly, I’m not adverse to a little blood and gore.” Noriaki said blankly, watching Jotaro immediately reach into his pocket for a cigarette. Noriaki personally couldn’t stand the habit- the smell clung to everything, choked every innocent bystander with the veritable World War grade toxic fumes, and in general was doing a number on the lungs. But right at that moment, with the far too angelic, blushing bride doe eyed face of his doppleganger stabbing holes into his brain, he was considering having a couple cartons of nicotine himself. It was so bad it was driving him to nicotine addiction prematurely.

The both of them walked back into the room, the other Kakyoin obediently waiting in the hall like some lovelorn puppy dog while the other Jotaro turned, glaring at Noriaki for a moment. Noriaki met the glare with one of his own, privately wondering if he would be able to trigger an Emerald Splash just with the full weight of his stare alone, and the other Jotaro turned to look at Jotaro Proper. “Somehow, your Kakyoin missed these two jokers tied up in the closet. That’s actually kind of a feat, if you ask me- I didn’t think someone could be fucking incompetent and then try to hide it.”

“Hold on one goddamn minute.” Jotaro said, and while Noriaki logically knew that Jotaro was just being a decent human being and sticking up for him, with the amount of bullshit that this clone was dishing out, Noriaki couldn’t help but feel a stab of frustration. “You really expect me to believe that someone could miss two people tied up in some shallow ass closet?”

“What- who do you believe more? Yo-”

“Kakyoin.” Jotaro immediately deadpanned, not even giving him the chance to finish. “We just met, I want to punch you, Kakyoin wants to punch you, and I don’t trust you. Are we done?”

Noriaki huffed out a breath and brushed past Jotaro’s doppleganger, staring up at him defiantly. “Myself and Jotaro will take it from here. You can go look after your husband.” 

“My wife, you mean.”

“I will not dignify your blatant ignorance with a response.” Noriaki said, looking past the gore that they would have to get cleaned up. “Instead I’m going to just have a look at this new thing likely just planted in the middle of our case like the professional that I’ve been sent here as and  _ what the ever loving hell.” _

_ Why the hell were there more of them? _

There were other clones inside the closet. And not just clones of anyone- there were more clones of Noriaki and Jotaro in there, tied up with tape over their mouths, even with a few noticeable differences. The Kakyoin inside had green hair and was wearing shades indoors, despite it being a cloudy day that in no way required them. The Jotaro there was also slightly different, back bent a little forwards and dolphin pins adorning his school hat. Despite the situation they were both in, neither of them had called out their stands, and that made a feeling of dread sit heavily in the pit of his stomach. His Jotaro joined him, squinting into the dim closet and huffing out a breath. 

“Think we should untie them.”

“No. Absolutely not.” Noriaki said, face twisting up in disgust. They already had one version of themselves running around- now there were others? God, how many of them were there? Noriaki didn’t know, but if they were anything like the ones that swarmed around there, they were in for a long, long day. They needed to find this stand user and fast, if only to figure out what in the everloving hell their plan even  _ was. _ “Before anything, I say we get Speedwagon personnel to make sure no one leaves, and then go out and put an end to this effective immediately.” 

“Okay- then I guess while you call them up for cleanup detail, I’ll deal with these.” Jotaro offered, likely out of guilt for leaving Noriaki to the sharks earlier. The Jotaro and Kakyoin clones were trying to say something, but Kakyoin brushed past them, slowly constricting the Alex clone so that he would pass out as he quickly got on the line with the Foundation, talking in a quick, professional manner that in no way resembled to pure, reserved frustration he’d been exhibiting throughout this entire debacle. Jotaro took another drag of his cigarette and just prayed that he could repress this entire thing as quickly as possible once they were done there. Sure, he wasn’t one to go believing in higher powers or anything of the like, but this time around, he’d be willing to make an exception. Just on the off chance it meant that whatever was screwing with him would have some pity.

He stepped around the body and crouched down, tearing the tape off of the third Kakyoin’s mouth and saying bluntly, “Talk.”

“Talk about what, Jotaro?” The Green Kakyoin snarked, which was off to a slightly better start than with the other clone, even with a literal dead body not five feet away from them. To rectify that, he had Star Platinum pick the both of them up and got up to follow as they were carried outside. The third Jotaro clone (who had apparently been asleep), started waking up, and Star Platinum was just about to gently deposit them on the ground before the Green Fuck opened his mouth and said, “Talk about family? Because, I must say, but your mother is certainly a fine specimen.”

Star Platinum immediately dematerialized in Jotaro’s shock, causing both clones to tumble ass first into the ground. Even so, the green headed clone stared up at Jotaro with a shit eating grin on his face, and Jotaro wanted desperately to think that he hadn’t really just said… “I. What.”

“Your mother.” The green haired Kakyoin fluke said slowly, as if talking to a child, “I would like to see her again, because I want to make like peanut butter jelly time, with my baseball bat.” 

_ “What the fuck does that even mean?” _ Jotaro questioned, feeling ill to his stomach in addition to just the visceral confusion of the nonsense spilling out of this clone’s mouth.

“It means I’m going to fuck your mom, shitlips.” The other Kakyoin looked him dead in the eye through those shades, and in possibly the most disturbing display he’d seen, smirked. “Call me the most interesting man in the world, because if things go according to plan, I’m going to be your daddy.” 

Jotaro immediately reapplied the duct tape, shutting him up again even as the green haired Kakyoin struggled, even trying to lick his hand and the tape to stave off being silenced. This Kakyoin was never allowed to talk again, if Jotaro had anything to say about it. He didn’t think that he could hate anything else, thinking that maybe he’d be using up all the hate that he had welled up in his body just for the weird clones from earlier, but it looked as if he was proven wrong. 

The other Jotaro was starting to make noise as well, struggling in his bonds- but strangely enough, they still weren’t calling their stands. Which not only served to make them more annoying, but also made Jotaro think of something interesting. He hadn’t actually seen the other clones call out their stands earlier either now that he thought about it- why was that, exactly? 

Thankfully, he could bring that up with his Kakyoin, because right then he was re-entering the room, fakes in tow. When the hell had they gone out the room again? Or did they follow after Kakyoin for some reason? The damn things were suspect in the first place, but this was even more suspect. Kakyoin came forward, looking over the still tied and gagged clones with a raised eyebrow. “... I thought you were supposed to be interrogating them?”

“I was going to.” Jotaro told him, looking back at the green haired clone, one side of his face twitching slightly. “But then I heard this cactus headed asshole speak and decided he lost his speaking privileges. Apparently this version of you wants to fuck my mom.”

“I-  _ what.”  _ Kakyoin said, face going slack at the absurdity of that. 

“My exact reaction.” Jotaro deadpanned, glancing back at the clone who seemed to smirk at him from behind his duct tape. Jotaro could feel the writhing of his own goddamn soul, wanting to leave his body just so that he could find his way to another plane of existence and punch the hell out of it, destroying the entire thing with his bare hands and the anger these clones inspired in him.

“Well,” The first Kakyoin clone said, that stupid, blank peaceful smile on his face. “if he truly wishes to romance Jotaro-kun’s mother, I wish him the best of luck to a happy engagement! I’m sure he’ll be fun to have around as a-”

“Shut the everloving fuck up, you.” Jotaro told the Kakyoin clone with some measure of exasperation. There was only so much overly peppy polite bullshit he could take out of anyone’s mouth (unless it was his Kakyoin, but then again, his Kakyoin was more often than not being a sarcastic shithead about it) before he started getting a fucking headache from all the squealing. He turned back towards the two tied up there and bent down to tear the tape off of the third Jotaro’s mouth. “Okay, you talk. Why haven’t either of you called out your stands?”

Kakyoin crouched down as well, having a look at the both of them and watching closely, Hierophant Green materializing around his ankles. The third Jotaro worked his jaw for a moment, seemingly trying to get feeling back into it, then said, “Does it really matter why we haven’t? We were in the middle of something important.”

Both of them waited for this version of Jotaro to elaborate, but he didn’t. So Jotaro tried to prompt, since this version was apparently completely tone deaf to social cues, “So… tell us what you were doing then.”

“No.” 

“Just- tell us what you were doing, that’s not an unreasonable-”

Then his clone  _ spat in his fucking face.  _ “Fuck you.” 

The other Kakyoin’s shoulders were shaking in laughter even as Jotaro wiped the saliva off his cheek, eye twitching. He wanted to punch himself. So badly. So badly that it was actually enough to have Star’s fist materialize from his arm just because of how goddamn ready he was to punch this joker straight through a wall. His own Kakyoin sighed, putting a hand on Jotaro’s shoulder. “Here, I’ll take it from here.” He moved out the way and Kakyoin crouched in front of the third Jotaro, who strangely enough had a hunch to his back, as if he wasn’t used to sitting up straight at all. “Now, why were you here?”

“... The ocean. It’s a beautiful place.” Okay, so the answer was fine so far- “With even more beautiful creatures… some downright sexy ones, actually. Dolphins are pretty-”

Noriaki reapplied the duct tape to the third Jotaro’s mouth, even as he struggled. If he had his say, this Jotaro had just lost his speaking privileges. He looked up, into Jotaro’s slightly horrified gaze as he said, “Let’s try the other one again… at least he wasn’t going into bestiality…”

“I. Okay, by all means- but I’m not talking to him.” Jotaro said, grimacing slightly as the tape was torn off the green haired Kakyoin’s mouth.

“Ow, Jesus Christ,” the green haired Kakyoin said, grimacing a bit. “Young man, get your head out your  _ ass _ . It’s no secret that your mom is hot, Jotaro. But then again you’d be more content to go fuck a dolphin so-”

_ “Anyway,”  _ Noriaki said, trying to keep it moving so that he didn’t have to deal with that entirely too uncomfortable thing, “what exactly were you two doing here?”

“There was a big gaming tournament, and Mountain Dew was sponsoring us.” The green haired Kakyoin said, pulling a saddened face. “Looks like the cake was a lie- I haven’t seen any gaming tournaments, and no banners anywhere even advertising for it! Jotaro’s been too busy trying to catch and screw the sea life to notice, but the entire reason we’re out here was to do that. Too bad he was too far gone with the surf…”

The hunched Jotaro said something muffled, but it could vaguely be made out to say something like, “Stoff tellin bepmpf I’mm  _ dead.”  _

“Sometimes, I can still hear his voice.”

“... Okay,” Noriaki said, taking a deep breath to calm himself and have somewhat of an air of professionalism despite the piles of bullshit rolling out this clone’s mouth at an alarming rate. Not as bad as the first set of clones in his opinion, but still pretty bad in some strange, nonsensical way. “While that does answer that, I have to ask- why do you both talk like that? In the nonsensical way where you say things like ‘the cake is a lie’, or those kinds of metaphors? Where exactly are you getting this all from?”

“Oh worm?” said the green haired Kakyoin, and what the fuck did that even mean. “They’re just memes. Don’t you know how to take a joke?” In the distance, there were the sound of airhorns, and it was loud and obnoxious enough to hurt Noriaki’s ears. He hoped to god that wasn’t this clone’s doing, because if he had to deal with that on top of everything else...

“I can take a joke,” Noriaki said, eyebrow raising, “but that doesn’t mean I have any idea what a… meme is. What’s a meme? Jotaro, do you know?” His Jotaro shrugged helplessly.

“I thought you might know something about it. Or could figure something out.”

“I mean, there’s the study of memetics, but that’s more of a study about how icons, language and the like are integrated into culture by being shared on a mass scale, especially when applied to evolution.” Noriaki said, rubbing his chin. “It’s mostly a pseudo science, however.”

“There’s Kilroy.” Jotaro said after a moment of thought. “He kind of transcends cultural boundaries and shit. Gramps told me about it- in World War 2, a bunch of soldiers started drawing this cartoon asshole on walls and writing “Kilroy was here” all over the world to kind of distract from the horrors of war. Maybe it’s something like that? People collectively sharing an in joke to distract from the abject horrors of the reality they live in.” Considering the fact that these two jokers wanted to fuck a mother and a dolphin, Jotaro would say that they led some pretty sad damn existences.

“You noobs are both wrong,” the green haired Kakyoin said, smirking. In the distance, which is to say, in a closer distance than before, there was the sound of airhorns. Again. How the hell was that happening? “Memes are the things you use on the internet to communicate! How else will people know what you mean if you’re not memeing about noscoping and Chris Pines with raptors?”

“So…” Noriaki said, staring at his clone. “You mean… words?”

“Who the hell is Chris Pines…” Jotaro whispered to Noriaki.

“Tch. You two are total noobs when it comes to this… 1v1, asshole- I could noscope your ass in a heartbeat!” Then the green haired Kakyoin started doing something with his clothes that made them flash in such bright colors that it was liable to cause seizures. Noriaki squinted against it, cautious, but overall unimpressed. In the background, he could vaguely tell that the other Jotaro covering the first Kakyoin clone’s eyes, and the confused murmurs of a couple Foundation personnel as they took a look in on the strange scene.

Hierophant curled around his legs, a barrier put up between himself and his Jotaro and the tied up clones. There was a tense moment where there was the worry that this thing was preparing some kind of attack, and like hell was Noriaki about to let something as stupid as this get the drop on them. Everything was still for a couple of moments. Then a couple more. Then Noriaki let down the barrier slightly and said, “That’s not actually going to do anything is it.”

“... Well I mean no, but-”

Noriaki reapplied the duct tape. They probably weren’t going to get any answers, so they may as well. The third Kakyoin was flashing insistently, be he didn’t pay it any mind as he turned to Jotaro to go over a plan of attack. “So, what say you about all this? Speedwagon personnel said that there have been strange occurrences at a set of warehouses nearby…”

“You go see about the warehouses then,” Jotaro said, ignoring the muffled cries of his second clone as well, “because I want to see if I can find that girl with the camera again. If it’s true that the camera is the stand responsible for these jokers, then I could probably find something on it. Maybe some clues, some failed photographs…” Then, a disturbing thought occurred to Noriaki. He bit his lip a bit, then spoke up.

“Jotaro… what if there are others?”

“That is…” Jotaro trailed off, a troubled expression coming over his face. “Shit. there could be others… And if there are, they could get in the way of all this.”

“Exactly.” Noriaki said, nodding uneasily. “So I say that if we find any other pairs, we call each other and the Speedwagon Foundation  _ immediately _ . The sooner we know how many of us there are around, the sooner we can adjust for them and figure out what to do with them while we search for clues. Especially since it’s likely that all of them, every version is likely to become violent enough to try and put us in the state that our informant is in.” The both of them tried not to look back as the body was collected, off to be sewn back together so that the family could at the very least pay their respects to a loved one that wasn’t looking utterly annihilated.

As ridiculous as everything was, it was a sobering reminder. These clones were not to be trusted. Every single one would end up being a threat.

Speaking of- the cringeworthy first pair meandered up to them, with the other Jotaro looking imperiously down at both Noriaki and Jotaro Proper. “Okay, with all that taken care of, here’s the deal- we’ll pair off and split up to look for clues. There’s been some activity on the other side of town- myself and my clone will take care of that. Kakyoin, you stay here with your clone and make sure he isn’t being  _ obstinate.” _

“Hmm, sorry, but I’m afraid you’ll have to be a little more flexible with your plans.” Noriaki smiled mockingly up at the Jotaro that towered above the rest as Hierophant wrapped a tendril around the clone’s ankles, pulling him suddenly off of his feet and causing him to tumble to the ground.

The Kakyoin clone screamed a little, hands flying to his mouth as he whispered, “Jotaro-kun…”

His Jotaro looked at his own clone and muttered flatly, but not without humor, “Timber.”

The other Kakyoin turned to Noriaki, tears welling up in those far too uncannily big eyes. “How could you… That was unwarranted! He didn’t even do…. He was just…”

“Well, tough guy? Where’s your Star Platinum?” Noriaki taunted, looking down at the Jotaro clone. The Jotaro clone glared up at him as he smiled, crossing his arms over his chest. “Hm? What about your husband’s Hierophant? What’s this? It doesn’t look like you or your husband are summoning them… Now how could that be? You were talking so big earlier…”

“I’ll get you back for this, you little bitch-”

_ “Unless you clones can’t summon your stands at all…”  _

There was silence, and the other Kakyoin fidgeted in the tense atmosphere. “So here’s what we’ll do.” Noriaki said, crouching down as the Jotaro clone sat up, a tense, angry look on his face. In the end, it was just as shallow and lacking in real emotion as his partner’s. “Myself and my Jotaro will go out and investigate, since we are actually able to defend ourselves, and you two,” Noriaki bopped the Jotaro clone’s nose, head tilting, “can stay here and help Foundation personnel with those two glowing idiots.”

Said glowing idiot clones of Kakyoin and Jotaro had stopped glowing, but now when they opened their mouths all that came out were airhorn sounds, and in front of the apparent marine life obsessed Jotaro were words appearing out of thin air just reading “bottom text”. The other pair of clones looked and seemed repulsed. Good. Let them feel the disgust that Noriaki and Jotaro had had to deal with every moment dealing with these two.

Noriaki stood up, a smile on his lips as he said with all the biting politeness he could, “Thank you for your help.” and started walking away, passing by more Foundation personnel as they presumably scrambled to take notes on the horny weirdoes tied up in the back room of the poor owner’s little resort. He passed her on the way out, politely declining her offer of a bowl of katsudon (even if he really hadn’t eaten any lunch, there were still things to investigate), and began making his way towards a couple of warehouses that stood, mostly abandoned, on the far side of the famed Hatsetsu Castle. 

Noriaki had no doubt that Jotaro would likely be going back to the beach, especially now that the sky was clearing up and the amount of tourists would make it an easy target for the stand, and he trusted that he had things under control.

The small gaggle of warehouses stood against the shadow of the castle, meekly bent under the oppressive dimness and their own olden wooden weight. The Speedwagon Foundation had said that they used to store various goods for suppliers in a nearby marketplace before they moved their goods out to more secure warehouses on the other side of town, away from the major tourist attraction looming overhead that could bring troublesome tourists that might end up trying to get into places that they shouldn’t have.

Of the things reported, the biggest had been mysterious sounds, a strange humming that vibrated through the ground in the dead of night, and the sound of a strange cry emanating from within. By some accounts, it sounded like human anger. By others, it sounded inhuman entirely.

Noriaki summoned his stand and sent him on ahead, feeling out the perimeter around the first of the warehouses. Everything seemed fine, right about then- even with the people beginning to poke their way around him on the sidewalk, taking with them beach bags and paper packages filled no doubt with souvenirs and food for impromptu picnics, everything was still quiet, to a degree that was in general unnerving. It was likely that the few people taking this back alley way were gawking at the Castle, as Noriaki was pretending to do, but even so, a shiver ran down his back. 

Hierophant’s view told a different story. One hundred meters in front of him, inside the warehouse, there was a low hum, a whine that rattled through the wooden flooring at a frequency that wasn’t unlike the buzzing of a fly, or the mechanical drum of some delicate machine ticking far too quickly to discern each individual tick. Then, there was the sound of human voices, and footsteps mingling in, and Hierophant lay low as he scouted out the best course to dealing with this possible threat.

Calling Hierophant back, he took note of the strange, maze like interior, and knew that it would be imperative to know how to get out. The last thing he needed was to be stuck inside of the place. Some of Hierophant unraveled, wrapping securely around Noriaki’s waist and leaving an anchor outside in front of the warehouse. 

When Noriaki moved forward, a little bit of his stand unwound, leaving an almost imperceptible glowing green thread. That was how he would find his way out again- like a hero looking to see the lair of the Minotaur, he would leave a path for him to find his way back. The warehouse wasn’t particularly big, after all, and Hierophant was quite versatile. Even so, Noriaki patted his pocket, finding the mace and pocketknife he kept. It never did well to rely heavily on one’s stand, and as they went deeper, Hierophant wouldn’t be able to do as much, as stretched thin as he was. Noriaki would simply have to defend himself. 

He followed Hierophant through the steps it took to get to the front door, then around the corner to a high window near the rotten wooden beams of the roof. He latched Hierophant onto the sill and they bore him up to where he needed to go with ease. The window itself was intact, and it was easy just to let a stray tendril wriggle underneath and unlatch it, lifting it up. The squeeze through was a little bit of a tight fit- Noriaki was far from a small man- but he made it work and landed nearly silently on the other side.

There was a sudden hum, a vibration he could feel underneath his feet. He tensed, straining his ears.  _ Thump thump thump  _ resounded underneath his shoes, like a telltale heart beating underneath the floorboards, but this wasn’t a horror nor something quite out of Poe’s works. The sound died down, and Noriaki tried to find where it had been coming from. That was the strange part, though- the hum didn’t seen to be coming from any particular direction. It just rattled throughout the entire floor and stopped.

Stepping lightly and avoiding the creaky floorboards with the help of Hierophant, who was slithering over the problem areas while leading him deeper, Noriaki looked around to try and parse together where clues could be found. It was difficult, though, with the entire warehouse being nothing short of dilapidated, with nothing littering the ground but the odd patch of broken glass and a place where the roof had partially collapsed, leaving rotten wooden beams and little pieces of scaffolding lining the floor. There was no furniture. No scraps of paper. Not even the odd box or rusty nail that might be found in an abandoned warehouse. That was where the strangeness of this place came from- despite everything, it was still too clean to look as if it were truly abandoned.

Hierophant stopped suddenly in front of Noriaki, and he immediately stopped in turn. There was something in front of them, thin as a razor, and Noriaki gently used one of the tendrils of his still unwinding stand to just touch it the slightest bit. 

As expected, it was a trick wire. The second the nearly invisible stand was touched, it pulled taut, cutting through the paper thin tendril and causing more piano wire to spring up, all just as razor sharp. If any unsuspecting person were to have unknowingly triggered it, there was no doubt that their entire body would have ended up being nothing more than a pile of miscellaneous parts scattered about the ground. Experimentally, he handed his pocket knife off to Hierophant, letting him cut through the wires just in case there was a second trap beyond it. The piano wires cut easily, scattering harmlessly on the ground in front of him, and it seemed as if nothing triggered. Noriaki took the pocket knife back and was about to move forward

when a knife whizzed straight past him. He moved out of the way quickly, stepping to the side, and his cheek ended up nicked by the blade. Noriaki cursed to himself mentally and crouched down, sending Hierophant up ahead just a bit. He had to be careful- if the link to the rest of the outside world was severed, it was going to be hell to find his way back. Especially now that he knew that apparently, someone had this entire place rigged up. There didn’t seem to be much else in the rest of this hallway, but still, Noriaki was on edge. Just what was being hidden?

He moved forward, stepping as lightly as he could even on the floorboards that he knew wouldn’t have any creak of sound. Hierophant kept going ahead, with his legs completely unraveled behind him and his hips slowly unwinding with the threads. Around the corner were a couple hallways separated by doors and winding walkways, and Noriaki wondered if this was also the reason why these warehouses remained abandoned- from what he’d seen so far, it was more maze like than a space to store loads of goods. 

Noriaki passed by a door, very obviously open and leading into a room where some blueprints lay on a table, and sent Hierophant inside. It was a tricky thing to maneuver, especially since Noriaki stood just off to the side in case of any projectiles, and especially since the razors of piano wire were even more plentiful than in the hallway. Still, Hierophant got through- as if he would ever would have doubted his stand- and he had a little look see at the print.

The blueprints were just of a regular copy machine. It might have been suspicious, if not for the fact that it had the exact make of every other machine he’d seen in the Speedwagon Foundation, and if not for the post its lining the side with taunting messages in colorful rainbow ink.

* * *

 

**_Sorry!_ ** **_♡_ **

 

**_But if you could have a look at our copy machine, it’s having a few troubles…_ **

 

**_Oh wait, you can’t read these. You’ll be dead by now! Teehee! ♡_ **

 

**_♡ Love, a secret admirer ♡_ **

* * *

 

Not exactly the kinds of notes one might find in a death trap of a warehouse, but Noriaki hardly had the time to go criticizing their choice of fun. To be very fair, if Hierophant wasn’t around, Noriaki probably might have died inside of the room. As it stood then, Hierophant was carefully slotting himself between the spaces of the wires, and Noriaki couldn’t help but think on the (honestly, far too obvious) clue. Their copy machine was having trouble, hm? Well what the hell did that mean for all the clones running around? Or was a copy machine their stand? Noriaki thought that surely, this villain couldn’t really be so sure of themselves that they put the answer in plain sight, even in a room so heavily rigged, because things were rarely so easy. 

Still, he kept this in the back of his head as he moved down the hallway, taking it slow to avoid the sharp edges of piano wire still so heavy in the hallway ahead and whatever other possible traps could have been rigged up. Thankfully, though, Noriaki seemed to have underestimated the complexity of this maze, because soon enough, he finally found his way to the main open area of the warehouse. The doorway he slid through was an open one, and beyond lay a space unhindered by the high ceiling. Just on the inside of the room, left of the door, were stacks upon stacks of pages. The ceiling had caved in slightly, now streaming sunlight into the space.

Still, Noriaki played is safe, cautiously inching his way into the wide open space and taking a look around. The space was still mostly empty, with almost no boxes in sight, or any broken glass, or anything of the sort that would in general indicate a place abandoned. In the far corner of the space, tucked away underneath some clean beams and floors that were far too clear, he could make out the edges of pillows and fabric, all surrounding a mattress, where someone… 

The figure sitting underneath the little canopy turned his head suddenly, and Noriaki hid behind one of the support beams, waiting with bated breath. Hierophant peeked out for him, and once again, Noriaki was presented with yet another clone. This time around, this Noriaki wasn’t flanked by a matching Jotaro, and by all accounts, his movements were slow, sluggish, as he poked his white haired head out to scan the space. He tried to stand, and Noriaki could tell that something was off with this entire scene, because this clone’s legs and arms were bandaged heavily, eyes bleary and unfocused. 

Other than the haggard appearance and white hair, this clone of Noriaki bore no other difference. They seemed about the same height. The clone had a gakuran off to the side someplace, and even with shaking limbs, their head was held up high. Then, the clone spoke up, voice hoarse and slurred, and the answer hit Noriaki all at once- drugged. Someone was drugging this clone. “Whoever’s there, you might as well come out.”

Noriaki weighed the idea that this might be another trap, but even if it was, he would have had to deal with it sooner or later. If only to retrieve this clone and bring him back. Noriaki stepped out from his hiding place, stepping forward carefully. The clone waited patiently. Then, the clone blinked, squinted at Noriaki, and rubbed his own eyes. “I knew that bastard was slipping me some strong things, but I never thought…”

He almost wanted to laugh at that, but he didn’t. Instead, he shook his head. “No, no, this is no hallucination. We look exactly alike, because you’re a clone of me. Albeit, a clone in a very strange situation…”

“Honestly? That’s not the weirdest thing that someone’s told me…. If you can… believe that.” He tried to step forward, but he teetered a little, unsteady on his feet, as if he hadn’t really moved on them for a bit. Noriaki moved forward to support the clone, eyebrows furrowing. “Ranks right up there with… vampires, and dream demons. And someone claiming that I used to be in love with them.”

“Someone claiming what?” Noriaki asked. Just what the hell was going on here? “What are you even doing here?”

“Hell if I know.” The clone shrugged helplessly. “I don’t remember anything. The painkillers he’s been slipping me is making it hard to even remember the last few days… Hold on a second, I think they’re starting to wear off a bit now…” 

“Right. Should I be worried about this… person, coming back?” Noriaki asked, setting Hierophant to scout out behind him, just to cover his back. 

“Not… not for a bit, I’d imagine.” His clone said, blearily turning his head towards the hole in the roof. The light was bright overhead- no doubt, it was a beautiful afternoon outside. “There’s always a bit of clarity before he comes back… and he said he had… he had….” Noriaki could practically feel the fog that this clone must have been fighting through. “Errands? Something like that. I doubt they’re normal errands, though… he’s such a damn creep…. Just doing… like that…”

“Hey, hey, try not to sleep just yet. I’m going to see if I can do something to help here.” He told his clone, leading him back to the mattress. As he got close, he could see that the thing was decked out in rich sheets, soft pillows and blankets, all of what would be given to perhaps a beloved partner. Or to a pet. “Who is he?”

“Who are you?” the clone asked, stumbling a bit over his own feet. “No offense, but I’m a little put out by the idea of accepting anymore… help. If that’s what you’re trying to offer me. Or what, am I going to find out that you’re actually my twin brother and we’re stuck in the Matrix?” Noriaki couldn’t help but crack a bit of a smile at that. At the very least, this clone was infinitely more tolerable than any others he’d seen so far.

“Kakyoin Noriaki. And no, we’re not twins. There’s a lot we’ll need to talk about… But if we have time, I want to contact my partner, Jotaro Kujo.” 

The clone tensed, and then reached a hand up to throw Noriaki’s arm off of his shoulder. He stumbled a little, and cursed, but quietly stared back at him, eyes filled with nothing but suspicion. “You wanted to know who was keeping me here? Ironic, considering the fact that you already know him…”

Noriaki wondered what the clone was on about before it clicked, and his eyebrows furrowed. “Jotaro? Your version of Jotaro did this all to you?”

“He didn’t do the wounds themselves- but know this, he’s no version I’ve ever known. I never knew any version of Jotaro Kujo before  _ he  _ found me.” The clone said, bristling. “No matter what he says- I  _ couldn’t  _ have known him before I lost…. Before I lost my memory.” 

This clone was an  _ amnesiac?  _

That was the thing that struck Noriaki most, out of everything. So far, every clone had had some kind of memory, of some kind of life outside of this entire debacle. They had those memories, and they acted based on them. Now here was a clone, possibly the least tolerable of them, he didn’t know anything of anything outside of this? It was strange and uncanny in a way that was unsettling, for some reason, something that struck him as wrong. If every clone of them so far was so utterly off, how was this clone the way he was while having something so important missing?

The clone seemed to see the look on his face, because he squinted, straightening up as much as he could. “This Jotaro Kujo claims that before I lost my memory, we were lovers who traveled to Egypt, where he saved the day from vampires. I can promise you this- there’s no way that could be the case. He’s kept me here, under the guise of caring for my injuries with painkillers, and every time I’ve tried to escape, I’ve ended up back in this damn room. The entire place is a  _ minefield _ . And he’s a sadistic sack of shit that I would never associate with otherwise. And now- just peachy- would you look at what happens? Now there’s  _ another _ me. This entire situation just gets more…  _ bizarre  _ by the second. What the hell kind of bizarre adventure is this?”

Noriaki let out a breath and said, “That all sounds horrific, and I truly do apologize. But please believe me when I say, that there is another Jotaro, different from yours, and he’s a far better man than the one you just described.” 

There was a beat of silence before the clone ran a hand down his face, letting out a long suffering breath. “Well of course, there must be, if there’s another me and there are no twins involved here. Which means I truly have no choice but to trust you on this if I want to get out of here, correct?” 

“I’m afraid so.”

The clone leaned against the wall for a moment, apparently trying to catch his bearings, before he stood up straight, and then did the one thing Noriaki hadn’t been expecting.

Behind him, a purple tendril snaked out and took hold of one of the bigger pillows of the pile bunched up in the corner, and moved it closer to Noriaki’s clone. Said clone looked at the pillow as the tendril of his stand disappeared, eyebrows furrowing, before he mumbled, “Strange…” and just sat himself down, sliding down the wall and getting comfortable. As if he truly didn’t realize that… “... Fine then. If you truly must contact him, do so now. Once you’re done, things will clear up more for me, and we can actually come up with a plan.”

Noriaki stared for a few moments longer before his gaze was torn away, and he looked off to the side. “Right. Give me a moment- I’ll even put him on speaker, if that will put you somewhat at ease. To hear the difference in inflection, no doubt.”

The clone considered that, and then nodded wearily. “Alright. Thank you for the consideration.”

Noriaki dialed Jotaro’s number and put him on speaker, sparing another glance back at the battered clone. Just what was he going to find out about him once the drugs wore off? The phone crackled to life, and Jotaro’s vaguely annoyed voice sounded over the line. “Yeah, Kakyoin? Did you happen to find anything?”

“I found a couple of things, actually- and a couple of someones as well. It looks like one of your clones is even more troublesome than we could ever imagine. Possibly lacking in the moral compass department.” Noriaki said smoothly, watching his clone out the corner of his eye. His clone was attentive, eyes boring through Noriaki in a bid to analyze- trying to figure things out as the fog in his mind cleared. 

Jotaro cursed, then huffed out a breath. “Just my damn luck. Why do so many of my clones have to be…”

“Hyper aggressive? More emotionally inept than you?”

“I was thinking ‘straight up stir crazy’, but those work too.”

Jotaro took a puff on his cigarette, and let the smoke out. For how sunny and cheerful it was, everything was getting on his goddamn nerves. This entire clones debacle was already starting to spiral into something worse and more complex than it had any goddamn right to be, and still, there was no sign of the girl with the camera. Even though it was practically begging to be used, with how fast the beach had filled up. 

Kakyoin had paused, considering something no doubt, before saying, “I haven’t met this fourth clone yet, but he drugged this fourth clone of mine. Not only that, but this clone doesn’t have any memories.”

“Pretty goddamn convenient that we have an amnesiac.” Jotaro groused, taking another puff. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught the movement of fabric. He turned his head to have a look, but it seemed to be gone again. Star Platinum floated beside him, drawn out by the movement on his own, and he scanned the beach with a piercing gaze. If anyone could find a specific face, it would be him. 

“Yes. So before anything, I’m going to take this clone out of this warehouse and see if I can look around for a couple more clues. Then I’ll find a way to bring this other Jotaro with me- most likely tied up. So we’ll have to figure out a way to get him back without anyone seeing us.”

“You’re by the Castle, right?”

“Right.” 

“I might be able to swing by. After I figure out who’s following me right now.” There was silence, and Jotaro looked over his shoulder, catching the tail end of a blue coat turning towards the buildings.

There was silence for a moment. 

“I’ll call you back.” Jotaro told Kakyoin, and Kakyoin hung up in that moment. The line went dead, and he slipped his phone back in his pocket.

With Star Platinum still beside him to make sure there was only the one, Jotaro made his way towards the little set of shops. There were a lot there by the seaside, a lot of different tourist traps and souvenir shops claiming to boost the authentic experience of these people’s vacations. At first, there was nothing, and he passed by a shop with far too sugary shit in the window for sale. Then he passed by a store selling things for the beach, and then an alleyway, and Star made a sound as he stopped dead in his tracks. Jotaro stopped too, and there was no helping the menacing aura coming from the alleyway…

He felt the touch of blue hands before he could see them, and Star rose up behind him, fists curled as the blue fingers hung on tight to his coat. His stalker stepped out from the alleyway, adjusting a blue hat over his eyes.

“Good grief…” muttered the clone in front of him, dressed head to toe in blue that almost matched the shade of his own version of Star Platinum. “You’re the second clone I’ve seen today. I think it’s about time that we get some answers.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” Jotaro said, his stand’s hands closing in around his clone’s throat. “I think this is a good time for a  _ chat _ as any.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued.... (Roundabout plays softly in the distance)
> 
> if things don't make sense, don't worry, they will, because I spent way too much time actually thinking about the logistics of this entire scenario lmao... 
> 
> In any case, I hope you enjoyed the "I Looked Up Meme History For This Bullshit" clones and the "Clones That Are Meant To Compare a Little More Closely And Actually Are An Important Plot Point" clones! Because next chapter, there's at least three more pairs of clones to introduce, each of them uniquely bad and not as pleasant as the two introduced at the end here! 
> 
> Any feedback is appreciated, especially since this turned out to be....... less crack than expected.


	3. Afternoon: The Great Clone Round up (the gang's almost all here....)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey remember how in the tags im like 'character study but not too serious'. aint that a farce lmao
> 
> sorry for the mostly filler chapter, but i kinda needed to flesh out a bit more on the homage fanons (henceforth known as Minori and Jojiro) and introduce the yandere-and-broken pair!! Next chapter finishes up these silly multiple clone shenanigans and will hopefully have a shit ton of plot for all of you to deal with haha.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!!

Despite the both of them agreeing that they should probably start talking, very little talking actually started happening for a full minute after that. The both of them stared at each other, neither of them backing down, even with some of the eyes of confused, curious bystanders looking at the both of them frozen in some suspicious stand off. Like hell was Jotaro going to blink before his clone did.

Said clone stared back with equal ferocity, tense and silent. He was the same height (thank _God,_ Jotaro didn’t know if he could handle another one of the empty expressioned funhouse mirror clones like the two back at the resort), with nothing about him that could be considered strange. No difference in the careful poker face or in his eyes. Nothing too different, even, in Star Platinum, except for the color and the length of his hair. Jotaro remembered what Kakyoin had told him- the closer these things were to wanting to kill, the more they acted like the original, until the deed was done. Did that mean that they looked like the original too? This was a damn precarious situation, and Jotaro had no idea just how strong this fake’s Star Platinum was. He could only hope that the relatively public space would keep the damn thing from doing something stupid.

Then there was something. Just a little shift in the clone’s eyes as the silence dragged on, and as the both of them glared at each other, stands simultaneously matching each other look for look. His clone’s eyes darted off to the side, slightly self consciously, lip twitching slightly. Jotaro’s own lip twitched down in turn, just a bit, before he smoothed his poker face back out. After a couple of moments, Jotaro started to see the fine cracks in what might have otherwise looked like a perfect recreation of himself, razor thin though they were.

His clone’s poker face was cracking a bit, lip twisting slightly when he heard footsteps pass by. Neither looked at them, staying still, neither wanting to be the one to blink first, and all at once Jotaro was hit simultaneously with how fucking awkward it was standing around waiting for his clone to make a move, frozen solid.

The worst part of it was, it wasn’t as if this was anything Jotaro was just pulling this weird air out his ass either- he could see, as the moments passed, how visibly stiff and weird his clone was, stance as locked up as it was while coupled with the visibly twitching eyebrow. Jotaro had to resist the urge to touch his face so that he could make sure that he himself wasn’t doing the same thing and looking this damn gawky, because that was a surefire way to break his _own_ poker face. He’d just have to have faith in his ability to bullshit his way out of this and wait until the clone eventually gave into the atmosphere that was slowly turning from tense to just plain weird.

As expected, the clone folded first, mouth twisting in a scowl. “Can you get your hand off my damn neck so we can get this over with? I don’t have all day.” Jotaro took a step back, the vice grip of the Blue Platinum (what he’d be referring to the knockoff searing his eyeballs from then on) falling away at the same time as Star’s hand falling away from his clone’s neck. With the shitty, awkward atmosphere finally dissipating, it was easier to take a step back and gesture towards the beach, under the relative shade of a tree within eyesight of the crowds further out, but relatively secluded enough to have their talk. The clone, thankfully, didn’t seem to be brain dead, and just nodded, following Jotaro’s lead as he marched them over to the fairly shady spot.

“You said I’m the second clone you’ve seen today- where was the first?” May as well kill two birds with one stone and get both of these things back to the resort.

“Other side of town, in the hotel I’m staying at,” His clone told him, speaking completely civilly and without dancing around the information he needed. “in the lobby. He was….” His clone paused, shifted uncomfortably, and looked away, pulling the brim of his hat down to cover an annoying as hell blush and look of embarrassment that Jotaro definitely had never worn in his life. “He was. Trying to pick up some annoying bitches that were hanging off of him and squealing. It was sickening.”

Jotaro felt maybe the slightest stab of sympathy. Even with the other two clones, he’d never had to witness _that,_ even if he had to witness how goddamn pushy the first was. Oh, God, that actually reminded him- “Was he a pushy asshole with them even if they seemed like they didn’t want to hang off of him?”

“You have no goddamn idea.” His clone ground out, looking back at Jotaro with a look of blatant disgust on his face. “He just kept spewing these cheap pick up lines at them and they were practically _falling_ over themselves, if they hadn’t already run away at the first touch. Made me wanna throw up. At least, it made tying him up at least somewhat satisfying. But how did you know about the pushiness? You ever seen the bastard?”

“Not that particular version, no.” Jotaro said, scowling. “But I met another one kinda like him. Taller than us, for some godawful reason, and the most aggressive asshole you would’ve ever seen. Wasn’t as bad as his Kakyoin…”

For some reason, the name caused his double to bristle, and Jotaro was left feeling slightly lost as his clone looked out towards the ocean. “Kakyoin…. As in Noriaki Kakyoin? … That’s- a name I haven’t heard in a while.” Jotaro’s eyebrows furrowed, because so far, all of these damn doubles came in pairs- one Jotaro, one Kakyoin, both completely intolerable to even look at. Then again, this clone didn’t mention finding a Kakyoin clone to go along with the weird womanizer clone that was tied up somewhere in some hotel (which honestly, Jotaro should have felt more concerned over, but considering the current record with clones and their being unbelievably shitty sentient bags of piss, he couldn’t manage to drum up too much sympathy). The clone fished around his pocket, causing Jotaro to tense, until he saw the cigarettes and lighter.

“... No kidding. Did he not come with you on this mission?” He couldn’t really imagine any version of Kakyoin being less than enthusiastic about going off and fighting the bad guys, but he guessed that it just came with the territory on these clones for some reason.

“Noriaki Kakyoin is dead.”

The words struck Jotaro oddly. Kakyoin Noriaki, dead. A dead Kakyoin Noriaki. Noriaki Kakyoin, who would laugh in Death’s face and come back surfing on the blade of his scythe, deceased. They didn’t even sound like a real, tangible thing that should be true in any reality, a mess of syllables that individually made sense, but strung together may as well have been gibberish. Even when Kakyoin had been close to death in Egypt, he still recovered. So obviously, it had to be a lie, and this clone was hiding his Kakyoin for some damn reason. Kakyoin had warned him earlier about some fucked up version…

But there was still something about the way this clone said that Kakyoin was dead. Something that, against all judgement, sounded utterly sincere, in the tight way the words were forced out of his mouth and in the way he took in a deep drag of his cigarette and let out a shuddering puff of smog. Jotaro huffed a breath out through his nose and figured he may as well gloss over this shit, since they still had things to go over. Since it wasn’t as if he was going to trust everything this clone said right off the bat. “.... Sorry to hear that.”

“You said there were other clones. How many did you find?”

“So far, three sets. Two are confirmed and kept back in a resort near Hatsetsu Castle. The last has a Kakyoin that was drugged by his version of Jotaro.” The clone bristled at that, the cigarette in his fingers crumpling under the sudden, too tight grip.

“... There’s a version of us that _what.”_

“Did some really shitty stuff.” Jotaro said, eyeing the clone warily. Was it any coincidence that he just so happened to find a clone of himself that claimed his version of Kakyoin was dead? One that seemed to show up directly as he was talking to Kakyoin, who was orchestrating an escape with the drugged amnesiac clone? He was liable to think not. Life just worked too hard to fuck him over a few too many times to believe in happy little accidents like that nowadays. Besides, the alternative to the pairs theory was a little more disconcerting, in Jotaro’s opinion- multiple versions of just _himself_ running around. At least with the Kakyoin clones, it showed that he wasn’t alone in dealing with these shitty things. But if there were individual clones of mostly just Jotaro showing up, then that meant far too many defects, like the shitheads they had to deal with that morning.

“Son of a _bitch.”_ The clone hissed through gritted teeth, the butt of his cigarette coming very close to burning his fingers. “How the hell could any version of myself treat someone like that?! Least of all Kakyoin…” The fingers on his other hand drummed against his thigh as he let the cigarette drop from his hands. He let out a breath.

Jotaro looked impassively at the display, checking out possible exit strategies as Star Platinum materialized behind him. As nice as it was to finally have a clone that was apparently so willing to cooperate, it was a damn shame that it had to be the one clone that was also probably some psychotic asshole. He was about to discreetly knock the bastard out while he was having his little moment when the phone in his pocket started buzzing insistently. His clone looked back at him questioningly, meaning that Jotaro had to dematerialize Star before the stand could be seen. He sighed, reached for his phone, and flipped it open. It was a text from Kakyoin, speak of the Devil- and it was a damn important one just prefaced with “DO NOT CALL”.

 

* * *

 

DO NOT CALL

 

Sadistic clone here

 

Warehouse 413 Hasetsu Castle  


 

* * *

 

Noriaki Kakyoin, decidedly alive, flipped his phone closed and slipped it into one of the inside pockets of the blue school coat that he donned. It would have taken too much time to wrap his arms and legs up to the degree that his clone had been constricted (because that was the best way to describe the way the thick bandages hindered all movement), but they got most of the details right. They applied the bandages around his neck and wrapped his hair up in sticky gauze, making sure to hide it. “Just tell him you tried to escape,” His clone told him, gently pulling the white gauze tight, “since it’s what he’ll be expecting anyway.”

“So am I to assume that some of your injuries are new?” Noriaki asked Blanc (who he decided to call just for simplicity’s sake while they were in this situation), feeling just the slightest tremor in the man’s fingers.

“Unfortunately, yes. But I never came back here on my own when I tried- it’ll catch him off guard that you’re here. He might be suspicious of it.” It was nice, despite the dangerous subject that was slowly making his way to the both of them, to actually have someone who was willing to do everything in their power to make a plan work out, down to the little details. It made being around this clone infinitely more tolerable than any of the others that he’d had to deal with, and it reminded him that if he had more time, he would have liked to have smoothed out the possible kinks in this plan. Even so, they didn’t have much of it, so the best they could do was get in their places and school themselves.

Blanc moved into the very corner of the warehouse that the mattress was situated in, hiding behind one artfully draped green curtain that in and of itself was unlikely to be focused on with the multitude of pillows that Noriaki piled in front of it. He leaned against the stack while keeping an eye on the rest of the room, remaining cognizant of the clone, just in case this all were some kind of strange, elaborate ruse. Considering the state that Noriaki found this clone in, though, he was liable to have at least some faith in the idea that the lead pipe in the other’s hands wouldn’t be used to break open the wrong skull. Besides, if he tried, Noriaki still had Hierophant to watch out for him, with his place hiding in piles of thread amongst the heavy sheets that his user rested on.

It wasn’t that long of a wait, and he could hear just the slightest hitch of breath as the sound of footsteps coming unhurriedly down the hall faintly floated into the spacious room. Then, Noriaki heard all breath cease completely, or else go so quiet that it was undetectable underneath the heavy footfalls that marked the coming of something disturbing and unhurried. Noriaki let his head turn to the side towards the wall and curtains, head bowing as he kept sight of the room out of the corner of his eyes. The footsteps slowly grew louder, as the figure approached, until he was gliding into the room with seemingly no care in the world. Out the corner of his eyes, Noriaki could make out the shape of a tray balanced in his hands.

The figure was hazy and dark for a moment, before stepping through the stream of sunlight that flooded in from the hole above. He looked to Noriaki with a gaze that sent chills down his spine, as if looking directly into those eyes would cause his heart to stop dead in his chest, and not from any good sort of enchantment either. The figure stepped forward towards him, the black of his plain coat a stark shadow against the light. The chain on his collar clambered ominously, like a the ring of a church bell just before judgement, and when he spoke, it was with a quiet tone of hidden, empty malice that Noriaki had never heard coming from Jotaro’s mouth before. Even when he stood up calm and composed with fury against whatever enemy of the day was snapping at their heels, he never sounded...

“Nori… I didn’t expect you to be so easy to find, this time. It’s a nice surprise.”

… So _wrong._

Jotaro never spoke with such a quiet, dark tone. If he were angry, he was furious and passionate in the shine of his eyes, burning with the centuries’ old fire of determination and in the loud rumble of his voice. If he were thinking, it was in a soft tone, distracted, eyes going off into the distance. Noriaki caught the edges of a smile, fake and plastered, settle on the Jotaro clone’s face and against his better judgement, his stomach roiled in revulsion. And not just because of how disgustingly fake this faux Jotaro was, either- but because of the reaction his presence was invoking, as if this was a horror movie.

Considering the drugged clone he’d found earlier and booby trapped warehouse, it most certainly had to be where this Jotaro had walked in from. Noriaki cleared his throat, quickly composing himself- after all, he’d been in far worse situations while having to come up with last minute plans. He could deal with a shitty fake. No matter how much the sickly sweetness dripping off his tone mirrored someone from before in such a way that it caused Noriaki’s tongue to swell heavily in his mouth, as if trying to cut off all speech.

“You updated the traps, didn’t you?” Noriaki knew he did, because the clone had told him as much, once he described what it had taken to get to this room. “You son of a bitch…”

“Noriaki, that really isn’t any way to treat someone who’s been caring for you.” Jotaro’s clone said gently, as if talking to a child, as he sat on the edge of the mattress. Noriaki kept looking stubbornly away, staring holes into the green fabric draped against the very corner where his own clone was keeping very, very still, and perhaps not just because he needed to for the plan. “I know that things are somewhat difficult, right now, since you lost your memory, though. So I can forgive you for speaking to me like that… Just so long as I can see your face, it’s worthwhile.”

He felt a hand grip his chin, and Noriaki felt slimy even letting this Jotaro turn his head towards him, even though this was simply all part of the act. Noriaki glared up into those blue eyes of the clone’s, and in their depths he found absolutely nothing. There was not one emotion to be found. Just flat blue, all encompassingly blank eyes and a smile that looked like what might have been painted on a doll. All the other clones had been flat, with nothing too complex to them except some kind of cartoonish approximation of emotion, but even they didn’t have the strange otherworldly apathy expressed by this creature. It fell so starkly into the uncanny valley, from the vivid color of its glassy eyes to the small, innocent seeming painted smile, that Noriaki felt a strange peace with the situation. At some point in his life, he might have found this absolutely terrifying. As was, it was almost comical, how close something could come to the epitome of fear and yet miss the mark. After all, as dazzlingly beautiful as the real face of fear was, there had been something at least somewhat human, burried so deep underneath that it was enough to give any naive, fearful victim enough hope to fuel their irrational decisions.

Noriaki knew the true face of fear, and this clone sure as hell wasn’t it.

Noriaki remained calm and defiant in the face of the thing approximating Jotaro’s image and told him levelly, “Well that’s a damn shame, because after I leave, you won’t be seeing anything more of me.”

The clone sighed, mouth falling into something of a frown. “You always say that… Every time I come to take care of you, you try to say that you’ll leave me. I can’t let you do that. If I did, everything out there could get their hands on you. You could get hurt… I’m just trying to protect you. You’ll remember that we love each other soon enough, though, and then things will go back to normal.”

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

“... Is it really worth getting yourself cut up over?

Noriaki tore himself from the clone’s grip, trying to move further to the end of the bed, when the Jotaro clone suddenly reached for the knife on the tray and stabbed downwards. Noriaki only had just enough time to move his leg from the path of the sharp blade. He looked back at the fake Jotaro, eyes widening, mostly for show. “What the hell was that-?!”

“Nori… I’m becoming really sick of this game you’re playing. Don’t you realize that I have emotions too?” No, this thing couldn’t have possibly had emotions. There was no way in hell.

“And have you considered that perhaps, you’re ignoring my emotions when you do evil things like this?” Noriaki spat out, glaring at the clone as he inched further away. The tray of food was left forgotten on the floor beside the bed as the Jotaro clone inched closer, knife still in hand. Just a little more, and Noriaki’s clone would have just enough room to take a swing. He just had to get the clone turned around just a little more.

The clone’s eyes narrowed, hand tightening on the knife so tightly that his knuckles were going pale. “Noriaki, I really think you should come back and have something to eat. Right now. You won’t get better if you don’t properly eat, you know.”

“Not hungry. In fact, I’m feeling up for a run.”

The Jotaro clone moved forward quickly, hand clasping around Noriaki’s ankle. His voice came out dangerously quiet. “I don’t think that would be the smartest idea, with how hurt your legs still are… You’ll probably sprain your ankle, or worse, break a bone. We wouldn’t want that, now would we?” His fingers gently ran circles over Noriaki’s anklebone, and his face twisted up in disgust at the contact as the clone dug his sharp nails in slightly. “At the very least, take your medicine before trying that… that way, you won’t feel any pain. Here, I’ll help you-”

The clone’s hand ran up Noriaki’s leg slightly, then froze as it was met with bare, healthy skin. Noriaki grinned, looking at the tendrils of green creeping towards the hand that held the knife, and used Hierophant to tear straight through the white gauze on his head, letting red hair spill out. If there was anything that could be said about Noriaki, it was that at least he knew how to make a spectacle of things. The mattress shifted suddenly and the bandaged form of the white haired version of himself raised behind Jotaro’s clone, a rusty steel pipe gripped tight in his hands.

The clone had no time to react other than try to whip his head back, and before he knew it, the pipe slammed against the side of his skull with a resounding _whack_. Hierophant wrenched the knife from its hand and handed the blade off to Noriaki, and while he may have already had his own pocket knife, he found it quite advantageous to have more knives, especially if they were kept out of the hands of the murderously inclined. Even if he did have the advantage of Hierophant beginning to wrap said murderously inclined up in its tentacles, it still made Noriaki feel infinitely more at ease with two weapons at his disposal.

The Jotaro clone coughed, blood beginning to trickle down from his wound when Blanc reared the pipe and hit him as hard as he could a second time, a sickening _crack_ echoing around the room. Then a third.

Blanc let the now bloodied pipe fall from his hands the moment that his captor fell unconscious, and the weapon bounced on the mattress before landing on the floor with a clatter, rolling away and spraying a couple droplets of blood. Once they got this warehouse debugged, the Speedwagon Foundation could deal with cleanup detail. It’d be pretty troublesome to have DNA that was a match to Jotaro and himself just laying around places, after all. Noriaki’s clone panted, trembling slightly while he stared down at Jotaro. The unconscious clone of Jotaro was methodically tied up with the tendrils of Hierophant, and when Blanc caught sight of Noriaki’s stand, he stumbled back over the sheets, catching himself against the headboard of the nest he’d been forced to call home. Noriaki was pretty confused until he remembered- right. Amnesiac. This clone likely didn’t remember his own stand, much less any others…

Blanc spoke up, looking at the glassy, glowing tendrils with a wide eyed, incredulous stare. Behind him, Noriaki caught the flicker of mirroring violet tendrils, protectively fanning out for just a moment before retreating into his back. “What, with all due respect, the actual _fuck?”_

“I suppose we’ll have to have the stand conversation, then.” Noriaki smiled apologetically, finding this entire scenario far too surreal. He didn’t even think he could process it fully right then- it was just too strange, the thought that any version of himself didn’t know about the first seventeen years of his life, where everything was in part shaped by being able to see his fighting spirit clear as day. Not that all those years were bad, per se- he was well liked enough, behaved well, and had loving parents who tried to push him to do his best while worrying over his tendency to self isolate, as any well meaning parents would- but those years still left such a stark reminder on him in the form of strange, bittersweet nostalgia that sometimes it was hard to part from it. This clone didn’t have any of it. For all Noriaki knew, all this version of himself knew so far was a stark room and violence.

“I suppose so.” His clone agreed, slowly coming back to himself while his eyes still flicked over the form of Noriaki’s Hierophant, shock and anxiety replaced with a cautious sort of fascination. Blanc slowly shuffled forward, and Noriaki let the rest of Hierophant that could wind together and materialize. With all the thread being used, though, Hierophant was only visible from the sternum up in solid form, and he leaned forward to have as much of a look at Blanc as Blanc had of him.

“This is Hierophant Green- my stand.” Noriaki introduced.

Blanc nodded, holding out a hand to the stand out of a habit he didn’t even remember. “Hello, Hierophant- my name is…. Also Kakyoin Noriaki. How do you do?”

Noriaki smiled a bit as a tendril extended from Hierophant for the handshake in lieu of an actual hand. “He can’t speak, I’m afraid. Stands can be somewhat autonomous, but mostly, he’s a representation of-”

Then Noriaki’s phone buzzed, giving him pause. He fished it out his pocket and opened it up, looking to Blanc. “Looks like the cavalry's here. There is another version of Jotaro outside right now- we could go out to meet him.” He watched his clone bristle, shifting uncomfortably where he’d settled onto the mattress to take in the explanation of Hierophant Green.

Blanc’s voice was cold as he told Noriaki, “I’d rather not see too many Jotaros all in one place right now, if that’s all the same to you. It’s…”

Noriaki nodded sympathetically. “I understand. We’ll have a look around and I’ll just send this one to them, so you can have time to prepare yourself. Because I’m going to be honest- there are a couple more Jotaros that exist, and while not as violent as this one, it may be just a tad overwhelming at first. After what’s happened here I don’t…”

“I’ll be fine. Just give me a minute.” His clone insisted with a tight, strained voice, rubbing self-consciously at the bandages on his wrists. “I just need time to lose the bandages, and to find another weapon. Just in case.” He paused, tearing slightly into the white gauze on his wrist with a white knuckled grip. “... I’m not made of glass, you know. No matter what this son of a bitch tried to make it out to be.” Slightly taken aback, it was all Noriaki could do to nod in ascent. For someone who didn’t know what a stand was, he sure as hell had a handle on some fairly fierce fighting spirit, which was sure to come back and bite Noriaki in the ass the moment this clone turned murderous.

For now, though, he decided he would just have to trust that he would be able to see the signs of the clone shifting into a more murderous state and called Jotaro, putting him on speaker. This clone seemed to be put at ease, knowing what was going on, and Noriaki didn’t like leaving people too far in the dark.

“Jotaro, the deed is done- we have your clone tied up here and unconscious. Possibly with a concussion. Depends how hard my clone ended up hitting him,” He looked back at the prone, tied up form of the Jotaro clone, “and considering the blood I’m guessing it was fairly hard.”

He heard the semblance of a huff crackle over the phone as Jotaro said, “That’s good. And I’m guessing he isn’t trying to go after you with that pipe.”

“No- he’s safe. For now, at least.”

Noriaki looked straight at Blanc, who stared back at him, most of the bandages around his fingers and wrists being torn off. They both stared at each other for a moment. After all, Noriaki could have taken care of this Jotaro clone on his own with no trouble- he was sure now that he’d seen him in all his finely dulled glory- but in the end, it ended up making for a good way to test Blanc and see just what Noriaki was dealing with, now that the drugs were wearing off.

“Yeah, well, it’s good to see that at least one of these things isn’t a blubbering, useless mess. That’ll make him a little less annoying. This clone of mine isn’t too bad, and he’s cooperative enough. Apparently, he found one clone of us that was looking to hook up with some girls and tied it up in his hotel room, so we’ll have to get that asshole later, after we reconvene.”

Letting out a sharp breath, Noriaki reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose. “There’s _more_ of them? It’s bad enough we have these two and the two pairs back at the resort. Now we have two extraneous Jotaros with apparently no versions of myself in sight with them. On the one hand, that’s less clones to deal with, if they’re just cloning you now…”

“... On the other, if they’re just cloning me now, there may be something that they’re trying to get out of it. Give me a damn break…”

Blanc had gotten up by then, and was rooting around a distant corner. Then, he came back with a rope. Noriaki tensed momentarily, but his clone was more focused on the already tied up Jotaro on the ground. “Hey, Kakyoin- let up the tentacles a little? I want to make sure there’s absolutely no chance of escape.”

“Good idea. It may be better to transport him like that too…”

“Oi, Kakyoin- what are you talking about?”

“Oh, right. My clone- he’s starting to tie up the clone that’s captured him. I don’t blame him, honestly…” He watched as his clone removed the Jotaro’s coat, and was only momentarily confused until he realized. His clone was trying to make it easier to hide that they were carting around a tied up man- which did wonders for Noriaki’s mood, because after all that just happened, he couldn’t help but be the slightest bit jittery.

After all, this could have very well have been what the Alex clone had been talking about, that morning- about how eventually, each clone felt the inclination to mirror their original, until the time would come when they could kill them. This showed him that he had to be on his guard, because despite the clumsy fingers not quite knowing how to tie knots working on the possessive psychopath there, just that little action showed that Blanc was uniquely clever, from what’d Noriaki had seen of these clones. That could make it harder to tell when he’d switched gears and goals towards the mindless elimination of Noriaki himself.

There were a couple moments of silence before Jotaro spoke up, saying, “Should we figure out what to call all of them? At this rate, trying to keep track of them all is gonna be a pain in the ass if we just keep calling them ‘the clones’.”

“That’s actually a good idea.” Noriaki said, watching as Blanc carefully laid the jacket over the fake Jotaro’s shoulders. “Does your clone know what to call himself?”

“...” There was a small bit of silence before he heard Jotaro murmuring to himself. It went back and forth for a few moments, with both tones overlapping each other in a way that kind of sounded like someone was banging a couple bags of gravel together, and Noriaki raised an eyebrow at the sustained quiet chatter, looking to Blanc. Blanc stared back at him questioningly, and then Noriaki heard one of the Jotaros clear his throat. “Jo… jiro. He wants to be called Jojiro.”

“... Jojiro.” Noriaki’s eyebrows raised yet again, and it was a miracle that they hadn’t ascended through the barrier of his bangs and taken to the skies. His lips quirked, because of course. “I guess this answers the question of who’s on first and who’s on second, eh?”

“Hey Kakyoin, as soon as I see you I’m going to kick your ass for that shitty joke in particular.”

“Jotaro your clone literally named himself the equivalent of Jo-two. You can’t actually think that’s not honestly funny. Jo one and Jo two.” He heard a snort, and he turned to where his clone had covered his mouth, hiding a wide smile. He held the phone out so Jotaro could have a clear earful of his clone’s stifled giggles- but really, it must have been quite a situation to find oneself in, Noriaki suddenly thought, not without humor. No memories, a captor unconscious on the ground and then this kind of thing popped up. God, Noriaki sometimes couldn’t believe the things he found himself in- both as the one being found in the situation and the one finding another version of himself in the situation.

“It’s just a name- so no, I don’t think it’s that funny. We have an entire clone situation on our hands, Kakyoin- don’t you have some other shit to stick your nose into?”

“Jotaro, do you ever think before you speak? At all? Because I need you to work on the phrasing of that last statement.”

There was a pause.

“... Have you figured out what to call your clone yet or are you just gonna keep making fun of mine.”

“Well, that’s not really up to me to decide.” Noriaki turned back to his clone, who was recovering from the last of his laughing fit. The clone’s face shifted into something more thoughtful as he sat up, biting his lip. “So then- what would you like to call yourself? Personally, I’ve been calling you ‘Blanc’ in my head, so if you need help coming up with something…”

“Blanc… means something, right? I have a feeling it does, but I can’t…”

“It’s French for ‘white’- the masculine form, anyway.” Noriaki said, remembering how back along the way in Egypt with nothing to do late at night, he’d drawn out whatever scenes or lines came to mind in the sand. He remembered that one night, while Jotaro had somehow managed to fall asleep face down on the hood of the shitty little car they’d crammed themselves into, Polnareff had meandered over and watched him. Apparently the image of a tram had reminded him of a play he’d seen, and he had a grandiose story of his first time in Paris, seeing _A Streetcar Named Desire,_ and about the main lead of Blanche. The story of the play itself wasn’t anything that Noriaki could really see himself getting into, but Polnareff seemed enchanted by the story and the main woman with the white hair, so he listened.

Noriaki’s clone ran a hand through his hair, carefully putting his white curly bang to rights. “A little on the nose, isn’t it?”

“Perhaps.” Noriaki replied, nodding a little, “But it seemed to fit.”

“... I don’t think I like it that much.” The clone told him, nose wrinkling. “It makes it sound like I’m ye olde maiden submitting to the vices of some random lord. That and… I’m at least eighty percent sure I’m not French.”

“We aren’t.” Noriaki said, cracking a little smile at that. “But we have a friend that is. You’d have liked him. He’s loud, cheerful- and he’s one of the bravest men I know.”

“... Hm.” The clone said, eyebrows furrowing. “... What was his name?”

“Jean-Pierre Polnareff.”

“... I don’t remember him.” was what the clone said after a moment.

“Well, I wouldn’t expect you to. You don’t remember much of anything, after all.”

“Yeah.” The clone rubbed the back of his neck, eyes moving towards the ground. “A name for myself, though…”

There were a few moments of silence where the clone stared down at his hands, now free from where the gauze had chafed at his skin. The bandages must have been wound up tight, if they had left such stark indents on the clone’s skin. The clone stared, and then clenched his fists.

“Minori.” He said, white hair falling into his face. “I want to be called Minori.”

Noriaki nodded, watching the clone as his hands trembled. “Minori, hm? A name meaning ‘truth’...”

“... Yes. That’s what I want to be called. As is, I don’t have anything, Noriaki.” His fists unclenched. “I don’t have my memories. I barely have my strength. I don’t know where I am or who I really was, or what’s going on. I don’t even know if I have anyone out there, looking for me, or if I’ve been left for dead. I understand that. But if there’s just one thing I can have… If there’s one solitary thing I can take… I want it to be this.”

There was silence. Minori looked up and slowly rose to his feet, squaring his shoulders and setting his jaw determinedly. Noriaki smiled back at him and stepped forward, holding out a hand. “Then I’ll do anything in my power to help you, for as long as I am able.”

Try as he might, Noriaki didn’t have the heart to tell Minori that it was very likely that in the future, he might have to die so Noriaki could defend himself. The last thing he needed after being drugged and finding himself without memories was to have the bombshell of his inevitable future hanging over his head. Noriaki wasn’t technically lying to him. He would help this clone in whatever way he was able. Even if it wasn’t exactly a wise move, or a move that was guaranteed to further this investigation.

Minori smiled, eyes shining as he took Noriaki’s hand, and they shook on it.

“I’d like that.”

The moment was cut abruptly to an end by two things- the first was a sudden, loud set of banging coming from out in the hallway, three heavy _thunks_ ringing out one after the other against the rotting wood. The both of them turned quickly towards the source of the sound, and the sound of a loud keen followed. Then it lapsed into complete, dead silence.

Neither of them moved. The clone remained unconscious on the ground, and Noriaki and Minori both stood stock still, shoulders tense as they waited for something, anything, to cut through the quiet.

That thing was the sound of the dial tone and the buzz of a message.

 

* * *

 

will call back

 

stand user

 

* * *

 

Jotaro flipped his phone closed nearly violently and slipped it into his pocket, following on Jojiro’s heels. In front of them, there was a somewhat smaller form charging full speed ahead, a hoodie pulled up over their head. It was hard to tell exact features from where they were chasing after them, but Jotaro could make out where a pink skirt swished around the thighs of black pants, puffing out impudently as if they were chasing a bright parrot doll a little girl might have instead of someone with a very familiar camera trying to flee the scene. They were about the same size as that girl from earlier, the one with the purple hair who giggled and rushed off as soon as she had her seemingly innocuous picture of Jotaro. The one that was causing him all kinds of pain in the ass. Already Jotaro could feel the anger he’d been storing ever since finding the first of those shitty clones bubbling up in his bloodstream.

He and Jojiro turned a corner, and Jotaro swore that he was gonna give that little bitch what for.

The one they were chasing started weaving in and out of alleyway after alleyway, ducking around brick corners and anxiously turning their head back, giving them only glimpses of a pale face before she kicked back steel barrels and any other debris that she could get her hands on. Jotaro’s Star Platinum was the first out, smashing the launched projectile out the way with lightning speed. Jojiro’s stand was the second out, catching a flurry of kicked up glass and rusty metal that got through the initial battering dealt by Star Platinum with an identical cry of ORA.

Another sharp turn around another, identical corner. Another punch thrown as the girl they were chasing dove out of the way. It all kept getting tighter as the space around the three of them tightened and narrowed down, as both Jotaro and Jojiro were almost within arm’s distance, coiling like a spring as the girl steadily began running out of breath, heaving as she attempted to move her legs forward. It didn’t matter that the maze of alleyways was beginning to become suspicious, just because it shouldn’t have been possible for a stretch of this tourist trap of a town relatively sparsely populated by shops to have a system this intricate.

Neither could make out a camera anymore, but that told them enough- whatever this stand could do, it must have been relatively weak, considering the fact that they were already closing in on her.

Then, the enemy stand user must have taken a wrong turn, because she just backed herself into a dead end. Jotaro stepped forward, causing the girl to stumble backwards. Jotaro pulled the brim of his hat down before saying, “We’re not really a fan of the paparazzi…” after which he realized that the rest of that statement (‘... but we’d be happy to give you a backstage pass to the Speedwagon Foundation’) sounded really stupid, “Are we, Jojiro?”

Slightly caught off guard, but trying not to show it, Jojiro said, “Not at all. We’re VIP exclusive- so I’m afraid we’re going to have to confiscate what you’ve taken.” That wasn’t much better, but at least it was something.

Both Jotaros took another step forward, and the girl stumbled back a couple steps before stumbling onto her ass. In that moment, though, her hood flew back, and it was revealed that it wasn’t actually a girl at all- rather, it was a man. A man with a very familiar face and a very familiarly styled bang of curly hair, now dyed purple. While Jojiro paused behind him, Jotaro’s teeth clenched, and he had to keep his eye from physically twitching as he said, “Give me a damn break… _Another_ one of you clones?”

If this was a clone of Kakyoin, though, how did he get any stand, much less the camera? It was a question that was setting off alarm bells in Jotaro’s head as the Kakyoin rose to his feet, shaking slightly as he started getting off the hoodie and skirt, revealing the black school uniform underneath. His lips trembled gently as he bowed forward at the waist, as if in some approximation of courtesy. “H… Hello, Jotaro and- and Jotaro…. I’m sorry to have put either of you through that. It must have been a long and tedious chase, and for that, I would like to offer myself up for punishment. Do with me as you see fit.”

There was a strange kind of sincerity to the way that this clone said it, as if he truly would offer himself up fully and just take whatever was dealt to him- no. As if he was afraid of what would happen if he _didn’t._ That tone of voice, coming from something that looked like Kakyoin, no matter how twisted, was wrong on so many levels that it took Jotaro a moment to even process it, much less think of it with anything less than disgust. Behind him, Jojiro shifted, stiffened, and then forced himself to relax his shoulders before moving forward.

“... We won’t do anything _to_ you. But we need some information. Especially about the camera that you had in your hands.”

Jojiro’s voice came out tight and slightly too fast, and when Jotaro looked down, he could see his hands clenched into fists, shaking slightly. Jotaro knew he himself was pretty easy to read- but this clone was just so goddamn over the top, and it was possibly even more uncomfortable being around him than it was to be around that disgusting married version from earlier.

“The… camera.” The Kakyoin said quietly, straightening up but keeping his head submissively bowed. His lashes dipped, and he shrank in a little in on himself, “I- I don’t remember any camera…. In fact, I don’t r-remember much of what just happened… He told, me not to question it, and I… I love him, so I didn’t.”

“Who told you to do this then?” Jotaro asked, stepping forward. The purple haired clone took one look at his face and winced, averting his eyes as quickly as he could, as if even looking at Jotaro’s face had been some offense. “You aren’t _lying_ to us, are you.”

“NO!” The fake Kakyoin yelped, eyes widening as he took a step back. “No, no, I’m not! I-I would never lie to you, Jotaro, or- or to any version of you. I… I love you, you know that?”

The words brought Jotaro to silence for a few moments, because they sounded… so goddamn off that it was actually really disconcerting. It was akin to the disconcerting feeling gnawing at his gut earlier when he heard that there was a clone of himself that had the disgusting audacity to drug and kidnap someone, or keep them hostage. The Kakyoin in front of him watched him with wide, cautious eyes, fingers trembling where they were clasped in front of him.

_As if he were afraid of Jotaro._

Finally, Jojiro stepped forward, breaking the silence as he brushed past Jotaro. “I’ll take care of this. Maybe you should… go over there for a second. That face isn’t helping matters.”

That was enough to peeve Jotaro, just a bit. He wasn’t making any kind of face, was he? “What face?”

Jojiro looked at him, searching his face for a moment before replying. “Exactly.”

As Jojiro stepped forward, the Kakyoin clone trembled, and when his clone’s hand hesitantly reached out, the purple haired man flinched back as if he’d been burned. Jojiro did lay a gentle hand on the Kakyoin’s shoulder, and after a moment of contemplative silence, said, “Hey. Maybe you should save that for your own Jotaro, yeah? We’re probably leagues different than he is, and it’s…” He licked his lips, and Jotaro could practically see the cogs turning in his head as Jojiro struggled to find what to say. “It’s, weird, to hear you say that, because you’re not our Kakyoin. We still have some questions for you, and you need to come back with us. Alright?”

“...” The clone was silent for a moment, but under Jojiro’s gentle touch, seemed to find some kind of composure. He took a deep breath in, and then another, and straightened up a little, not looking quite so cowardly or small. There was still an air of wariness around him, but otherwise, he seemed much more calm. “I’ll go with you- but… I don’t think I can help you. I’m so sorry.”

“So be it.” Jojiro withdrew his touch a little too quickly and turned on his heel, moving back towards the alleyway entrance. “Come on.”

“R… Right.” The clone followed after, and Jotaro was on their tail, following after in tight silence. He watched as the Kakyoin clone migrated to the front of the line and as Jojiro moved back beside Jotaro himself, falling into step.

“... You know that you don’t have to be so damn gentle with him. He’s not Kakyoin- he’s just a clone.”

“I know.” Jojiro reached into his pocket for a cigarette, setting it between his lips as his fingers gave the slightest tremble. “... But he looks like Kakyoin.”

The group lapsed into complete silence. Jotaro took that chance to text his own Kakyoin quickly.

 

* * *

 

found another kakyoin clone

looks like theres only one unpaired clone of me then

 

* * *

 

Unfortunately, Noriaki was a little too preoccupied to answer, considering the fact he and Minori had finally found the source of the banging. It had been a slowly while, gingerly sweeping Hierophant’s tendrils along the floor and poking everything that seemed suspicious with Minori’s pipe to make sure that all the traps had truly been deactivated. They seemed to be, which only spoke to just how arrogant the sadistic Jotaro clone was, thinking that he wouldn’t even need them should Minori have tried to escape.

The both of them decided to just refer to this Jotaro clone as “that bastard”, since he didn’t really deserve to have a proper name. Said bastard was still very much tied up, being dragging along in Hierophant’s tendrils as Minori lagged a bit to keep an eye on him. He’d given himself the job of making sure he wasn’t waking up anytime soon, which thankfully let Noriaki move forward with the investigation into the sounds that had restarted with renewed vigor, a plethora of bangs ringing down the hall. As they drew closer towards the door, though, there was another sound joining in chorus to the first- a strange creaking, like springs close to snapping. Noriaki tensed and he could spy Minori’s knuckles going white around the pipe he was holding.

They paused halfway to the door when another sound became evident- one that almost didn’t seem human. It sounded like whimpering, and then morphed into a full _yowl,_ like a feral cat in heat. The banging continued with renewed vigor, and at a faster pace, inhuman grunts and growls coursing from the room.

“Jesus,” Minori whispered, brushing past him to be leading the pair, “do you think it’s… another one of those stands? What other kinds of creeps are just hiding out in places like this, with their fighting spirits impudently on display?”

“Who knows,” Noriaki replied, moving forward cautiously, feeling the knife in his pocket. Just in case Hierophant wasn’t fast enough (considering how much he had unwound all over the place), he needed to defend himself. “but for for now, we need to see what’s in there. I have your back, Minori.”

Minori nodded tersely and then reached out for the handle with one hand. He gripped it, taking a deep breath in as Noriaki held tightly onto the hilt of his pocket knife. Then, with singleminded determination, he threw open the door. Then he peered inside, turned away quickly and slammed the door shut, looking to Noriaki with a look on his face that bespoke of a mind scarred for life.

_“Why are they fucking around in there?!”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> quick note: the name suffix -taro apparently means 'first son' while the name suffix -jiro(u) means 'second son'. Jo First Son and Jo Second Son. I need you to know that i laughed way harder than i should have at this
> 
> but yea, I hope you enjoyed!!! i gotta say, minori and jojiro are my faves- though they arent really conventional fanons technically ? i based them off of interpretations that were close to the originals, but didnt quite get there, mostly written by authors improving upon their skills and exploring new avenues for these characters. in a sense, theyre a homage to the people out there putting effort into making their interpretations recognizable as Jotaro and Kakyoin, rather than some stereotype or whatever kind of role the plot needs them in, bc in the end this interpretation can be just as fun to read on an off day
> 
> (also i wanted to see if i could make these two endearing to the audience and make people care about obviously mischaracterized versions of the mains lmao)


	4. Late Afternoon: A Little Flesh Thaw

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i added a new chapter bc im gonna do a meme dimension and if that doesnt tell you where i am with this fic nothing will
> 
> also i hope you enjoy !!! i absolutely loved writing minori and jojiro a bit- especially since theyre the best of the fanons, tbh jvfiujkv. Thanks for reading!

“Wait-” Noriaki said, jaw going slack for a moment as he took in what Minori had just said.  _ “Excuse me?” _

“They’re just,” Minori gestured to the now closed door with the pipe, a perturbed look on his face, “they’re in there, doing--” He was cut off by another series of thumps from inside of the room, accompanied by a sound that sounded more like the yowling of a dying cat than a yell of pleasure. Minori shuddered, face twisting up in pure horror. “There’s another version of us, and another version of Jotaro, except- this Jotaro had cat ears on? And, a- a collar and leash-- Jesus Noriaki there was wax, rubber and blood all down-- and god, there was sh-” 

“Don’t say anything more.” Noriaki said, suddenly not wanting to know at all. He felt sick to his stomach and he didn’t even know the full extent of what he was disturbed by. He just knew, though, that it was something akin to a curse that would drive him to early alcoholism. A bottle of vodka was becoming more and more appealing by the hour. “Please.”

There was awkward silence as the noises inside the room ramped up in volume, and Minori coughed. “So. You go in there.”

“What? No! I don’t want to see what’s going on in there.”

“Well  _ I’m  _ not going in there.”

“I have this joker tied up with Hierophant already-” Noriaki jerked a thumb back towards the unconscious form of the Jotaro clone, still dripping blood from that wound in the side of his head. He was, most likely, going to end up with a nasty concussion, and honestly, Noriaki was more than okay with letting the bastard slip into oblivion. He could get away with it too- Joseph never said anything about clones killing other clones. “- so it’s going to have to be you.”

Minori crossed his arms petulantly over his chest. “I don’t want to! It’s already weird enough having to deal with another me and your psychic spaghetti monster...” 

Noriaki brought a long suffering hand to run down his face before saying, “Fine! Neither of us will go in there- we’ll wait until they finish and then ambush them on their way out.”

“Fine!” Minori said, turning around and staring pointedly at the opposite wall of the hallway.

“Fine.” Noriaki said back, unable to keep the slightly sarcastic tone from his voice. 

Of course, that would mean. Waiting for them to finish. And having to sit through the moans- that, thankfully, were winding down, thank Christ. Noriaki didn’t know what a prolonged silence might have been like, awkwardly standing outside the door with his clone while waiting for these two to stop banging against the wall with their bodies, but he had a feeling that the entire thing would’ve made this situation. At least twenty times worse. 

He and Minori waited for a few minutes, silently listening to the two bodies shuffling inside of the shitty little wooden room of this warehouse. What exactly had possessed these two clones in particular to choose a dank, slowly rotting hunk of wood for their, ahem, activities, Noriaki would never know. All he knew was that it was unlikely that they had any way of quickly cleaning up, so he was already bracing himself for the worst. 

Eventually, there were steps, and Noriaki caught sight of Minori gripping onto his pipe as they both flanked each side of the door. There was a slight creak as the door opened inwards, and Noriaki made out the tail end of a conversation.

“- you know JoJo, it almost makes me forget… well. It’s appreciated.” 

“Forget- ?”

Noriaki exchanged a agonized glance with Minori. Out stepped yet another clone of the both of them- except this Kakyoin was adorned with blue hair, licking some red substance from his fingers. Noriaki wasn’t going to ask. Instead, he made the executive decision to just step forwards, blocking the blue headed clone’s path and stopping all of whatever out of context dramatic display would have taken place otherwise. He really wasn’t in the mood for some shallow melodrama, nor was he in the mood for…. Dealing with much more eyefucking than the two clones were exchanging right then. Jesus Christ, how fast would these two jump each other’s bones if given the chance?!

“Ahem.” Noriaki said, clearing his throat politely before he very impolitely continued, “You’re coming with us. No ifs, ands, or buts.”

“Maybe a few ‘but’s…” The Jotaro clone muttered, and Noriaki felt an eye twitch. 

“Want me to hit them?” Minori very politely offered, slowly raising his iron pipe. Noriaki was honestly half afraid that the clone was going to grow an unhealthy attachment to the damn thing…

“I wouldn’t mind if you hit me…” The Jotaro clone said lustfully, eyeing the pipe. Noriaki slowly felt a piece of himself, probably long forgotten and completely goblinlike, remerge from the depths of his subconscious only to recoil and dive straight back into his mortal shell. Minori stared at the clone before suddenly letting the pipe clatter to the floor, hands uncertainly floating in the air in a direct reflection of what Noriaki was feeling right at that moment.

“I change my mind. You deal with that.”

“.......... Hm.” This Jotaro would. Probably be into Hierophant binding him. Noriaki really, really didn’t want to deal with that. He kind of already felt slimy looking at this Jotaro in the first place, especially when he was- wiggling his eyebrows at him. All rather salaciously. No, Kakyoin wanted no part in this whatsoever. But he still had to take him back somehow…. 

“... It doesn’t matter if we put up any resistance, in the end,” The blue haired clone suddenly spoke up, and Noriaki was nearly startled- but then he realized. The clone hadn’t been silent because it had been waiting its turn or anything similar- it had apparently been  _ brooding,  _ at the exact same time Minori and Noriaki had been figuring out what to do with lover boy there. “The way I figure it, do we even have a choice in this life? I was condemned the moment my stand manifested….”

The mention of the clone having a stand put Noriaki on edge. Minori had already shown signs of having one- even if he didn’t remember it- so what would another version of Hierophant do, in the hands of a clone like this, which had shown legitimately sadistic tendencies?

But then the clone just kept going.

“It never ends….. The isolation, the nights spent wondering whether the thousands of people passing outside the window- no, outside my castle in a sea of nothing- would come and bring me just a moment of solace,” The clone said, turning his head to one side as gentle, depressing piano music played from an invisible source. Noriaki knew better than to ask. “Left adrift, without anyone to love- no one but myself, and how can I love myself when I’m like this? The freakish nothing in the mirror, the hellish creature that slips his mind into the skins of others and-”

“Jesus Christ.” Noriaki said, rubbing his temples, “Get over it.”

“Do you…” Minori mumbled, looking around the corridor, spooked, “... hear that-”

“Yes, Minori. I hear the stereotypical thematic sad music.”

Noriaki was beginning to entertain the thought that perhaps, he was just going insane. If he wasn’t, then he was going to be losing his goddamn mind any moment, because this was just grating on his nerves at this point, looking at this clown act as a funhouse mirror reflecting back some weird, angsty teenage bullshit. Kakyoin Noriaki was twenty  **fucking** years old, and he was already close to growing grey hairs.

Trying to get things back into some semblance of order, he quickly wrapped the drama queen’s limbs and mouth up in Hierophant and began to walk briskly away, letting the ignored lusting cut out of Jotaro and Minori catch up. He was going back to the resort- he needed a damn moment of normalcy.

Well, at least nothing could get much worse.

 

* * *

 

Well, looks like things were getting worse.

When Noriaki and Minori arrived at the resort, it was easy to find the two Jotaros that would actually be of help to them. Mostly because the clone dressed in blue- Jojiro, Noriaki tentatively labeled him- sat with his face buried in his hands, while the original Jotaro dissociated heavily in the background. Star Platinum rhymically punched the poor resort owner’s wall. Dammit. They were going to foot the bill for that.

Not that Noriaki could blame them, really, since it seemed that they found more clones- and they were the most god awful things that Noriaki had laid eyes on.

Well, two of them were- Now there was a purple haired Kakyoin, quietly speaking with the first, married pair of clones- but he didn’t seem too bad, at first. Sure his frame was still overly effeminate, but at least he was at his proper height. The new pair of clones were very vocal though, and possibly far worse than even the two clones still broadcasting airhorns from where they remained, shunned in the corner. Mostly because the Jotaro clone there was just… talking. Continuously. And would not shut up.

“- because with all this happening I just don’t see us really connecting? I know I’m not really one for talking this kind of thing out but I really do think we should take a moment to just sit and have a discussion-”

“Oh my fucking  _ God.”  _ The Kakyoin clone with black hair snapped, a haughty, almost nasally tone to his voice. “Why is it that you even open your goddamn mouth anymore? All I hear is you bitching and airing out your dirty laundry as if anyone actually gives a damn!” 

There was a moment of silence as the Jotaro clone sat stock still. Jojiro sucked in a breath, and Noiraki spotted him digging his palms into his eyes in pure exasperation as the Jotaro clone’s lip trembled, eyes hidden at first under the grey brim of his hat. Then the waterworks started. 

Fat tears rolled down this Jotaro clone’s face as the real Jotaro, finally coming back to reality, pinched the bridge of his nose. Soon enough, the clone was right back to talking, blubbering, “I-I-! I just w-want to t, talk things, o-ut since you’re always seeming so distant- do you even love me?!” For a moment, Noriaki felt bad for Jotaro, because who knew how long this clone was just like that. Being overemotional. But then Noriaki remembered how earlier Jotaro left him with the shitty married pair and ran the fuck away to avoid dealing with them and all sympathy flew the coop at an alarming rate.

As Minori muttered, “I’ll take these three outside,” and led the sadistic Jotaro clone tied up along with the stupid brooding pair trying to eye fuck each other’s brains out, Noriaki went to stand next to Jotaro, gently laying a hand on his shoulder.

Jotaro glanced back at him. Noriaki smiled as the insipid bitching of the two clones grew exponentially, complete with more tears, and asked Jotaro, “Hey, remember when you left me with the honeymooners over there to avoid interaction and then stopped me from punching my clone in the face to see if he would get it together? Remember that? I remember that.”

“Kakyoin-”

“Don’t Kakyoin me.” He snorted as he observed Jojiro standing up in apparent disgust as the two started taking their fight over to him, trying to get him to mediate. In a rather Jotaro like fashion, he turned dramatically on his heel and walked as fast as possible away, muttering about how this shit wasn’t his problem. 

He leaned up close to Jotaro’s ear, whispering perhaps a mite sadistically, “Karma is sweet.”

Jotaro’s fists were clenching, but Noriaki knew that it was unlikely that he would do anything with them just yet, particularly with Jojiro approaching them now. Strangely enough, the clone was as close to Jotaro as could be- but there was something a little more open about his face. Possibly the open caution he approached Noriaki with, and the strange somber look on his face. “Hey. So I’m guessing you’re this version of myself’s Kakyoin.”

“Yes indeed.” Noriaki nodded, and for some reason, couldn’t help but feel just a bit awkward. Likely because of how self consciously this clone held himself, seeming almost clumsy even as he stuck out a hand somewhat aggressively for a shake. Noriaki took it, trying to smile politely. “And you must be the clone who calls himself Jojiro, correct?”

“I’m Jojiro… yes.” There was some unreadable expression on his face- not because this Jojiro character was as stoic as Jotaro. But because he simply had so many flashes of emotion cross his face in rapid succession- all until it settled on a glint of determination in his eye. “It’s good to see you again… Kakyoin.” He let go, moving back somewhat stiffly and ending up just looking mildly lost in the process.

“... Well, that was awkward.” Noriaki commented, eyebrows raising.

“I know.” Jotaro said flatly, and perhaps a tad menacingly, “It’s irritating.”

“Honestly…” Compared with the rest of the Jotaro clones that he’d met that day, with their hyper aggressive and downright slimy personalities, having a brief, pleasant little introduction into a Jotaro clone that was far less of a massive douchelord was fairly welcoming. “I think it might be a tad endearing.”

“You’d be wrong about that.”

“Hm. Perhaps…” 

There was a mounting bit of chaos in the room and Noriaki scanned it, trying to process the sheer scope of the scene. Counting Minori, the pair seeming about to hop into the nearest closet, and the sadistic Jotaro clone… There were five pairs. Ten clones in total. They really had to figure out how to call them all, because it was going to be annoying and inefficient to refer to them all as “the clones”....

There was a crashing sound, and slowly, a lumbering form made its way back into the room, leaning against the doorframe. Surprisingly, the Jotaro clone’s eyes were free of any concussed stupor, despite the blood slowly dribbling down the side of his head. The first Kakyoin clone- the “wife”, who Noriaki just decided to mentally call Anti- screamed, hands flying to his mouth as he hid his face against his Jotaro’s shoulder. The two who were just arguing stopped dead, eyes drawn to the commotion, and the green haired motherfucker and his comrade….

Well, they were off doing something in that corner, not acknowledging anyone else. So Noriaki decided to just leave them to their bullshit.

The sadistic Jotaro- who didn’t deserve a name, and would henceforth be known as “that asshole”- breathed heavily, glaring out at the room. Then, his eyes slowly locked with Noriaki, a predatory gleam shining within the flat blue pools painted on his face. There was a quick smile before the purple haired clone suddenly rushed over, arms thrown about the sadist’s neck.

“Jojo!” The purple haired Kakyoin exclaimed, and though his tone was outwardly happy, there was something underneath it. Something primal and hysterical.  _ Almost scared…  _ “I was so worried about you, I- I thought you were d-”

“That I was what, dear?” The sadist said deceptively breezily, with a frozen undertone. The purple haired Kakyoin’s limbs locked in place, muscles held tense- expectant. Expectant of what? 

“Th… that you, weren’t…. C-coming for me,” The Kakyoin said, slowly beginning to shake. The sadist grabbed the clone’s wrist roughly, twisting it up, and Noriaki stepped forward, alarmed. Just what the hell did this creature think he was doing? “I-! P… Please loosen up a li-little, you’re hurting m-”

That asshole that had a hold of him kissed the clone’s fingers with all the fake tenderness in the world. Noriaki was already sending Hierophant to tear the bastard away as he said, “Don’t worry, love, I’ll never d-”

Before Hierophant could reach, as fast as lightning, the lead pipe was back to smashing the asshole’s skull in. Minori didn’t hold anything back in his swings- perhaps, Noriaki thought somewhat sardonically, he had forgotten how to do so- as he beat the asshole off of the purple haired clone, little drops of blood clinging to his fingertips. He was breathing heavily afterwards, even as the asshole fell backwards and his purple haired Kakyoin screamed, trying to get to the Jotaro that, moments before, had been  _ hurting him.  _ Noriaki didn’t let that come to pass. Hierophant’s course changed to tangle the clone up, pulling him away from that asshole and Minori.

Minori got his breathing back under control as he said, “Sorry. My hand slipped. Six times.” 

Slight chaos erupted throughout the room as all the other clones seemingly got bored of the asshole and his purple haired Kakyoin. They had all gone back to their own conversations, with the Anti-pair (Noriaki still wasn’t sure on the name) getting caught up with talking about dinner plans (or rather, Anti-Kakyoin promising to make a feast and Anti-Jotaro telling him to just get to the kitchen, dammit) and the rather emotionally unstable pair going right back to arguing, with the grey Jotaro’s cries getting louder.

The airhorns around the green haired Kakyoin and his weird, disturbing Jotaro grew in volume rather ominously. If at all possible, Noriaki would have liked to just banish them from his mind.

“Let me go!! Please!” The purple haired- oh, Jesus, that was getting annoying, so Noriaki was just going to name him. Anyway, Prose said, “You don’t understand… he’s so sweet, and he- cares for me, so please-! Let me make sure he’s okay! He’s the moon to my stars, the rain to my desert, so-”

Noriaki sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. Beside him, the original Jotaro eyed his sadistic clone and brought Star Platinum around him to continue the pummelling some more. “No. Now, Minori- where are the other two.”

“They’re- yeah, Noriaki?” Minori let out a sympathetic breath, resting a hand on his shoulder. “You might wanna untangle that blue haired one. They’re trying to… you know, again.”

“WHAT.” Noriaki had been so caught up with stopping that asshole that he at first didn’t feel it- but now he retracted Hierophant’s tentacles as quickly as humanly possible, absolutely scandalized. 

“I don’t know man, I’m just- relaying the info.” Minori held his free hand up placatingly, and then, his eyes caught on something behind both Jotaro and Noriaki. Noriaki blinked for a moment as his white haired counterpart also blinked in turn, seemingly taken aback, and he glanced over his shoulder. Ah, Jojiro- the clone had been so quiet and well behaved compared to the others that Noriaki hadn’t even realized that he was still there. Still there, and now looking back at Minori, a haunted look crossing his face.

“... Pardon me,” Minori said, gently pushing past Noriaki so he could approach the clone. “I know you look like every other Jotaro in here and- I guess all this is going on, but… have we met somewhere, before?”

Jojiro said nothing. The only thing he did was take a step back.

“.... Maybe not.” Minori finally said, an odd look on his face. “Maybe we haven’t… so I suppose introductions are still in order.” When Jojiro still said nothing, Minori stepped closer, slowly holding out a hand. “My name is Kakyoin Noriaki- though, to avoid confusion, I suppose it’s best to just call me Mi-”

Minori never got to finish because, quick as a bullet, Jojiro decked him.

Minori held his jaw in surprise as the clone in blue rushed past him, pushing the original Jotaro out of his way roughly. “Watch where you’re going-” Jotaro started to say, but Jojiro was already out the room. Then Minori, even after that, started to walk after him. 

“Where are you going?” Noriaki asked with a note of exasperation.

“I don’t know,” Minori said, shifting his pipe to his free hand, “I don’t know- but I have to follow, I just  _ know  _ it-” and he was rushing out too. 

Noriaki took a deep breath, trying to center himself as he glanced back at the rest of the clones. The black haired Kakyoin was growing exponentially more crass and bitchy as the grey Jotaro’s hiccuping cries sounded, and he didn’t trust those two weirdos in the corner… Plus, Jotaro had been punished enough, having to stand with this many at once. Noriaki decided to take pity on his friend. “Hey, Jojo- can you follow those two to make sure they don’t run? I figure that I may as well stay and name all these degenerates…”

Jotaro started to protest, looked at the clones and the growing chaos of all these two-dimensional personalities clashing, and for once decided to swallow his pride to let Kakyoin take the bullet. Whatever the hell was going on with possibly the worst version of himself and that amnesiac couldn’t have been nearly as bad. He gave a non-committal grunt.

“Yeah.” said Kakyoin flatly, “That's what I thought.” He swiftly turned to the other clones in the room and started breaking up the pair that needed a good punch out (or couple's therapy, but Jotaro much liked the punching better) and Jotaro turned away to follow after Jojiro and Minori. 

He wasn’t in any particular hurry to catch up to them, but in the glimpses he saw of them running ahead of him, Jotaro saw an almost stupidly overdramatic scene- Jojiro tried to lose Minori, who was shouting, “Wait! Just a second!” as he tried to pump his legs faster, reaching a hand up to keep the glare of the afternoon sun out his eyes. 

All Kakyoin had asked Jotaro to do was follow and keep an eye on them- he didn’t really have any sort of desire to do anything to stop whatever scene was going on. Sounded like too much work…

Minori rushed forwards, pumping his legs faster and stumbling a little over his steps- he still wasn’t used to walking, used to moving around after his time in the bed. Still, he managed to keep sight of Jojiro most of the way, until he lost sight of him- but even then, he could almost smell it, the salt of the sea that Jojiro had seemed keen on running towards. It could be possible that Jojiro was just leading him on and was planning to feint away- but if Minori got to the sea, then maybe he could… do something. He was relatively sure he knew something about the sea, but what…

If he could use the tide and the sun, then maybe he could get his bearings…. 

As it turned out, Minori didn’t have to look far, after the boardwalk came into view. He could see the hulking form hunched in on himself slightly, staring out towards the sea. It seemed almost… too convenient. Minori felt the urge to move forward, but he paused, waiting for a moment. There was a chance that this was just another bastard kidnapper scenario waiting to happen, and Minori didn’t want to take that chance, after just escaping the first one.

His hands tightened around the pipe in one hand and he shifted until he held it in both. Minori advanced slowly- only to stop when he heard ragged breaths, and the stuttering of flint. As if Jojiro were having trouble with his lighter… 

“... Are you… okay?” Minori asked despite himself, tensing as soon as the words were out his mouth. He didn’t want to speak and give himself away, but- there was something… genuine, in this all too.

_ Why did he act as if he saw a ghost? _

Jojiro straightened up suddenly, reaching a hand up to pull the brim of his hat down. For a moment, there was silence. Minori didn’t see Jojiro’s face, at this angle- the angle being, looking at his back, of course. 

“... It was really rude to hit me, you know,” Minori said finally, unnerved by the silence, “I’ve half a mind to return the favor- coming out of nowhere, punching a convalescent-!”

“... you won’t do shit.” Jojiro said thickly, and though his voice was carefully calm and controlled, Minori could almost feel something akin to anger in there. Angry at what? It certainly couldn’t have been at Minori himself, so- “Because if you were my version, you would’ve just done it. Eye for an eye and all.”

“...” Minori didn’t really know how else to answer that but to step closer, grip on the pipe loosening. As he approached, he saw Jojiro staring at the ground, a cigarette between plump lips. “... Well, I don’t think I’m anyone’s version of anyone. I’m just me.” 

“And who the hell are you?” Jojiro answered, pithy. “A blank slate, at most.”

Minori’s grip tightened. “Yeah? So what? Do you have a  _ problem _ with that?!”

“...” Jojiro took another drag of his cigarette. “... Guess not. It’s a little better than that purple bruised son of a bitch.” 

“I’m pretty bruised myself, idiot.” Minori said, just as terse. There was just something about this Jotaro’s attitude, and it just…! “Not ego wise like you, surely-”

Jojiro tensed. Then he was suddenly too close, smelling smokey and salty and somewhat indescribable (and why the fuck did that pop into Minori’s head? not the time, Jesus-) as his face twisted with anger and maybe a bit of pain. “I’d watch your mouth, if I were you.”

“Good thing I’m me and you’re not, because I won’t be doing shit about my mouth.” Minori said, shoving Jojiro away. Jojiro’s eyes briefly widened in surprise, as if he wasn’t expecting that, before that stupid fake angry expression was back. The same expression that was pissing Minori off, because- what the fuck was that supposed to be doing for him?! Was this asshole gunning for sympathy? Gunning to be left alone to sulk like some oversized goddamn toddler? 

Minori shoved him back again. “And I’m going to keep running it, because you’re being absolutely stupid right now- decking some poor sucker you just met, running away like some angsty teen and dragging me into some- Lifetime movie worthy vat of tense nothingness!” 

Jojiro glowered at him, dragging him up by the collar, “And maybe you shouldn’t have been standing there, looking so goddamn perky with this entire situation and giving me that ‘have we met before’ cliche, pushing my fucking buttons-”

“And maybe  _ you  _ shouldn’t be doing some edgy chain smoking sulk on the beach in the middle of the afternoon!” Minori exploded, livid as he shoved Jojiro back against the railing for a third time, “It’s still sunny, asshole, at least wait until it gets dark to pull your tall dark and broody shtick-”

_ “Then stop fucking reminding me of him!”  _

Jojiro finally said, tense, and Minori fell silent. Even though Jojiro’s expression was pained- even though his eyes were wet with tears, blue and dazzling as the sea- there was no crying. Jojiro slowly set Minori down again, reaching a hand up to pull down his hat as he barked out a short, almost hysterical laugh. “Oh, Jesus. What the hell are we doing, Kakyoin?”

For some reason, a bubble of some tense, indescribable emotion bubbled up in Minori’s chest, and he was giggling hysterically too. “Getting… getting into some shouting match, like a couple of school children…”

“You only just met me,” Jojiro breathed out, apparently calming down, though his shoulders were still shaking. “Of course you don’t know what’s going on- you’re  _ amnesiac.  _ You can’t remember shit, and I’m shouting at you like you’re some shitty anime hero. Of course. Because this is my life, it seems.”

“Mine as well- you weren’t the one who got coldcocked by some bastard in a stupid blue Matrix recolor.” Minori shook his head, the absurdity of the situation running into him full force. He had no memories, was stuck with at least five other versions of him running around, and now here he was, reminding some clone of the bastard who kidnapped and tortured him for an indeterminate amount of time of his dead friend. Well wasn’t this a bitch of a situation. 

“Hey, don’t knock off the coat- it looks good.” Jojiro said, and Minori snorted.

“Don’t kid yourself- it’s so dumb. But I guess it suits you.” 

There was silence for a moment as Minori smiled, and Jojiro just watched before turning around with a little “hmph” and- and surely that was just the heat of the day- a flush on his cheeks. “... It’s just weird, is all. You even smile like he did…” 

“Oh.” Well. The situation just got more sincere… and Minori honestly didn’t know what to do about it. Should he… say something to make Jojiro feel better? Maybe even leave him be? Maybe he should just… “... What happened to me, JoJo?” Jojiro tensed. “The other me, I mean. Your Kakyoin.” 

Jojiro was silent. He looked out over the ocean as if searching for some answer. Then, he spoke. 

“He saved my life.” 

And he turned back, a misty, distant look on his face as he closed his eyes. “It was an asshole move to punch you. Go ahead and do your worst to me- we’ll be even then.” So that was that. He wouldn’t even acknowledge or elaborate on what he meant by that…

A hit for a hit. An eye for an eye….

A life for a life.

Minori would let it go. There was still so much to take in- and there was a lot of time to get answers later, surely. 

Raising his pipe up high, he brought it down- only to pause a few centimeters from the top of Jojiro’s head. Jojiro stayed still for a moment, head bowed, before cracking an eye open to see what the hell Minori was doing. Minori gently bopped him on the head. Hopefully not even enough to hurt.

“Eh… I’ll get you back some other way later.” Minori said, pulling his pipe back and stepping forward, giving his most sly smile. Jojiro stared at him, face slowly pinkening from the summer heat before a voice behind them boomed out.

“Alright, both of you- break it up-” 

Minori swung first and foremost. Swing first, questions later seemed to be a pretty good life philosophy as far as Minori was concerned. But his pipe hit nothing- because in the blink of an eye, the original Jotaro was standing just a bit to the left, out of the path of the pipe. Stopping Minori’s makeshift weapon was a giant, purple fist, belonging to another goddamn effervescent form. 

Star Platinum stared at the clone curiously as he shrieked in surprise, pulling his pipe closer to himself as if to defend himself. Jotaro watched, almost bored- but honestly, he was just glad that the entire melodramatic scene was over. Minori stared between Jotaro and Star before tensing, hissing out, “Oh, Jesus fuck- where are you people getting these things?!”

“... You mean Star Platinum?” Jojiro asked, eyebrow raising. His own version of Star Platinum appeared, tapping Minori on the shoulder. Minori slowly turned his head to look.

“.... Does everyone on this goddamn beach have a weird phantasmic companion except for me?!” 

“We’ll get to that later.” Jotaro said, getting straight to the point. “Come on- Kakyoin just texted me, and it looks like we have a problem you need to see.”

 

* * *

 

Noriaki stood in front of the door, looking at the scene inside with slight apprehension. Even with most of the clones being ushered out the room due to the mass chaos and distress, there was still the fact that this could be used to his advantage.

In the center of the room, the overemotional Jotaro in the grey coat writhed, groaning out low, sad cries. Down his cheeks dribbled blood as the skin on his cheeks slowly, oh so slowly, began to peel away. As thick and off colored as ink, its flesh slowly pooled on the floor. It was a grisly scene- seeing a man melt away into pure nothing, and Noriaki tried not to look.

“No-ri,” The clone whimpered, eyeballs beginning to liquefy in his skull, “Nori-ah-ki… puh… ple a se…” The Jotaro clone dragged its body towards him slowly, trying to grasp Noriaki’s pant leg. Noriaki paused, staring down at the creature as it gurgled, grey coat grafting into its skin like a fine coat of grey fur. “No-ri-plleaassssse… Hell… p…” It’s voice almost sounded human, even as its vocal chords slowly became more garbled. Then, Noriaki remembered that it was just a clone and kicked it away, taking a step back. On the other side of the room, a mass of bones and black hair hissed and spit, gurgling hideously.

Jotaro stared at the scene, blocking the way so that Minori and Jojiro couldn’t see the carnage inside. Then, he said, “Melting clones, huh.” 

“Yep.” Noriaki said, deadpan. At this point, this may as well have been happening. At the very least, he could be sure of one thing- this complicated things. “At least we know a possible motive for wanting to kill the original.” 

Jotaro entered the room, a shadow following behind him. Without looking, Noriaki could tell it was Star Platinum- it was the same shape as always, with the hair blowing softly in nothing at all. “This just brings up more questions, though- why now? Why these?” 

“Maybe we can speed it up…” Jotaro said, and Noriaki considered the option. That would certainly make things shorter. 

“These were the latest ones we found, correct?” Noriaki asked, crouching down. The grey Jotaro clone wiggled pitifully, wheezing slowly as it kept trying to approach Noriaki. “These clones seem to be getting shabbier. Physically, these two seemed fine… So perhaps there are other factors. Personality wise?”

“If that’s the case, why haven’t the weaker versions of you melted yet?” Jotaro questioned, poking at the flesh of the fully melted (but still breathing, how horrific) with a foot. “If anything, I’d say that being a total bitch was a little truer to form than those idiots that looked like they’d faint at the sight of blood. Especially not the purple one.”

“Prose is… certainly a character.” Noriaki commented, bringing a hand to his chin. 

“Huh. You actually named them.” Jotaro commented.

“I sure as hell wouldn’t trust you to do it. It took two of you to come up with Jojiro.” Noriaki retorted.

“Is now truly the time to be joking? Over the melted corpses of your mirror selves?” 

Both of their heads turned to Minori, striding into the room with his pipe. He looked at the writhing form of the Jotaro clone and it, apparently enticed by the promise of a new Kakyoin to try and beg, tried to get over to him. Minori stared passively at the scene before turning his head, glaring at Jotaro and Noriaki. “What? Did you really think we’d be willing to wait around when weird shit is going on?” 

“This wasn’t for you to see.” Jotaro’s eyes narrowed. “Especially since this can be you.” 

“I doubt it,” Star Platinum suddenly spoke, and Noriaki’s head turned to it- only to find that it was blue. And that it wasn’t in Star Platinum’s voice- it was in Jojiro’s. “Yeah yeah, get the surprised reaction out the way- we can talk through our stands, remember?”

“... Hm.” Jotaro said, staring for a moment. 

“He’s with the other clones- keeping watch over them.” Minori said, kicking the slowly melting hand that clasped around his ankle. “And here’s the thing- I want in on the investigation.” 

“I think it’s best to let him on,” Jojiro endorsed through his Blue Platinum. “Amnesiac or no, he has a good head on his shoulders. You could do with another of those.” 

“Besides, I do believe you’re wrong about this being either Jojiro or myself.” Minori said, eyes shining. “Because I don’t know if there are any internal mechanisms at play- what if the factor that causes clones to melt is inter-relational?” 

“... How so?” Noriaki prompted, eyebrows shooting up. “Not much acts on these clones, it seems- and from what we’ve seen so far, we know that clones, even seemingly weak willed ones, are liable to turn violent with their original selves. Are you proposing that the longer they spend around us-”

“Not quite- though that may be a factor.” Minori said, stepping forward. “I meant inter-relational amongst the clones themselves. The relationships between Jotaros and Kakyoins. Don’t you remember how these two were with each other?” 

Noriaki glanced at the black haired Kakyoin in the corner, eyes narrowing. It was an intriguing proposition… “... These two were certainly some of the most emotionally unstable. A Jotaro that only cries and can’t communicate without hysterics and a Kakyoin that can only be rude and sarcastic, one who refuses to communicate… That’s not much of a relationship.” 

“Exactly. It’s meant to fall apart at the seams...” Minori said.

“... and as they get worse and worse… the more in danger they become of destroying themselves.” Noriaki finished. “It’s unhealthy, so they destroy each other before anything can happen. That’s… kind of brilliant, actually.” 

“I am, thank you.” Minori said smugly.

Jotaro looked to Noriaki as if he’d grown a separate head, and Noriaki sighed, sweeping his left hand to the side. “Think about it- of the clones, almost all of them seem to have an unhealthy co-dependence on each other. All except for…”

“Us.” Minori stepped in beside Noriaki, sweeping his right hand to the side, “Because Jojiro’s Kakyoin is dead, and I have no memories of a Jotaro of mine. No relationship- no threat of melting.” 

_ No threat of melting, but perhaps a greater threat of murderous intent. _

That only explained clones of Noriaki and Jotaro though- it wasn’t a full explanation of the case of their poor murdered informant Alex or his clone. But considering the fact that Jojiro and Minori wouldn’t have that information, it was still an impressive set of deductions that Minori had made.

Noriaki made a decision.

“Minori will be a great help, Jotaro.” Noriaki said, moving to pat Minori’s shoulder. Minori’s face lit up with a grin- and Noriaki liked to think that perhaps that naivete was genuine and that Minori did trust that Noriaki really had his back. But in any case, Minori had proven himself, time and time again, of being more intelligent and strong willed than the other Kakyoin clones- meaning that it was smart to keep him close. Keep an eye on him. Just in case this was an act…

Jotaro was obviously about to say something when Blue Platinum cursed, retreating through the wall. There was a commotion in the other room as the sound of airhorns ominously filled the halls, as loud and clanging as a church bell. “Shit,” Noriaki muttered, and they all decided to turn heel and rush out the room to see if Jojiro needed any back up.

Well, at least, Jotaro and Minori did- Noriaki locked the melting globs of clones in the room. They would spend their time in there until Speedwagon could come in and collect the inky bodies for study.

Noriaki rushed down the hallway after his white-haired clone and the original Jotaro, listening to the sound of horns ricochet off the paper walls and into his eardrums. Then, the door to the room where he’d shoved the clones into was opened and  _ what the shit _

There wasn’t even a floor anymore. There was nothing but a void of inky blackness, and at the end of it, a bottom that shone with enough neon colors to metaphorically melt Noriaki’s eyeballs. Hanging onto the edge where the floor gave way was Jojiro, slowly pulling himself back to his feet with a slightly spooked look on his face, blue coat stained with weird… cheeto dust? Dorito dust… at the edges.

Minori asked the question on everyone’s mind. “What the fuck happened  **here?”**

“Some bullshit we’re going to have to deal with.” Jojiro replied, dusting himself off as he stood. “That green haired Kakyoin dragged the resort owner in.” Noriaki tensed, eyes flashing. The resort owner had been one of the most patient ladies in the world, with all this happening- to pull her into some stand shenanigans to do God knows what was completely inexcusable. Damn that pair of reckless idiots…

“Let’s just get this over with.” Jotaro said, staring into the abyss with Star Platinum on his heels. “I have a bad feeling about this.” 

“Same here.” Noriaki said, sighing. 

“The only thing I hope for is for my sanity to remain intact,” Minori muttered, slightly miffed, before gripping his pipe and jumping in without a second thought. Noriaki was about to say something, but already Minori was slipping into the abyss, a small, Dorito scented puff following where he’d jumped into the hole. 

“Good fucking grief.” Jojiro mumbled, before jumping down after him. 

Jotaro didn’t even say a word. He was following, Star helping to make the descent more bearable. And that left Noriaki at the top, smelling nothing but shitty musk and Red Bull, staring at the mass of pulsing neon colors. A bubble popped somewhere, giving a strained  _ “SNOOP DOOOOOOGG”  _ before popping completely.

Well. Guess there was nothing else to do other than to save the resort owner.

God, the situations Noriaki found himself in… 

He jumped soon after.

Unfortunately, Noriaki didn’t see the form of a figure standing at the top of the shaft, biting their nails. Running a hand through errant brown curls, they closed and locked the door.

He doesn’t get to see the familiar form of a large, dark figure, his painted smile, or the two clones he held over each shoulder pass by the door. On the left, a tiny, waifish Kakyoin clone, seeming weak and vulnerable even in sleep. On his left, that clone’s Jotaro, knocked out cold. But not for long.

Yanderetaro laughed.

**Author's Note:**

> man i hoped you enjoyed that bc i still dont know how to feel about this lmao
> 
> If you have any requests or want to have a look at snippets of writing I haven't posted, as well as some original work, [why not have a look at my tumblr?](http://jojotier.tumblr.com/)


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